Agent in Training
by hoydenish
Summary: A series of stories detailing the progression of the relationship between Lee and Amanda, as well as Amanda's growth as an agent. Alternate universe starting somewhere in the first half of Season 3. Early chapters are rated T, with Chapters 5 and onwards rated a strong M for adult content.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Lee untied the lengths of cloth that had held her wrists bound behind the chair back. Her shoulders protested as she moved her arms for the first time in an hour.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." she answered automatically, and then rethought the answer.

"No. You know what? I'm not fine."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" his jaw clenched.

"Not really. He got the jump on me when I came through the office door, and the next thing I knew I was tied to this chair, and he was on his merry way with our surveillance tapes. All that effort wasted …"

Amanda looked down at her feet. She was ashamed. The surveillance tapes were their best chance to catch a ring of counterfeiters suspected of funding West African dictators, and her job had been to recover them from the suspect's office without being detected. And she'd blown it. To add insult to injury, she'd remained tied to a chair for an hour, waiting for the cavalry to arrive, which it eventually had in the form of Lee and a recovery team. But not before she'd had a lot of time with her thoughts.

"This is ridiculous. How am I supposed to be an effective member of the Agency if I can't handle a simple assignment like this one?"

"It could have happened to anyone, Amanda. You didn't realize they'd been watching you …"

"That's just it! I didn't realize. And I should have. I should be able to spot a tail by now. Lord knows I've had enough people follow me around over the past three years. But no-one's ever taken the time to train me on counter-offensive techniques. You've all been too busy complimenting me on my 'intuition', or saving me from some situation or another that I've stumbled into."

Lee thought about what she was saying. She wasn't entirely wrong. When Amanda first joined the Agency, there had never been a plan to make her into a field agent, so she'd only undergone basic protocol training. But over time, her role on his cases had evolved from administrative support and sometimes cover to one of a fully-fledged partner, albeit one without full agent status. And if he was being honest with himself, he'd sped that transition along without much thought to formal training, because it suited him to work closely with her and he figured he could keep her out of harm's way. He felt a twinge of guilt, but moved quickly past it to propose what seemed to him the most logical solution.

"Well, we're just going to have to get you some unofficial training then, aren't we?"


	2. Chapter 2

Profiling

Amanda pulled her station wagon along the curb in front of Lee's apartment building on a cold February evening. Lee was away on a covert assignment, and he wanted her to feed his fish. Or at least, that's how she'd interpreted his cryptic message.

She'd come home from work earlier that evening in a piss poor mood. Lee wasn't anywhere to be found, Billy refused to give her any details other than he was on a "top secret, need-to-know mission", and Francine had mocked Amanda for not needing to know. Placing a bag of groceries on the kitchen island, her eyes rested on a bunch of bananas, next to a single key attached to a rabbit's foot keychain.

"Mother, I told you I was going to the store after work. Why'd you buy more bananas?" she called out to Dotty, who was upstairs.

"Those were there when I got home today, sweetheart. I assumed you'd been home at lunch and dropped off the groceries then."

"Oh, right. Sorry. That's what I did. I just forgot." The lies she told her mother were going to land her a front row seat in hell.

She puzzled over the bananas. There was only one person who would break into her home, leave fruit, a key, and disappear without a trace. Lee. But Lee was supposed to be out on a mission, with zero contact with her until he was done. Clearly, there was more going on here than a concern for her potassium levels.

"Think like a spy, Amanda."

The bananas each bore a sticker indicating they were the product of Honduras. There were five of them. A rabbit's foot was meant to bring good luck, and the key looked to be one for a dead bolt. What was Lee trying to tell her?

Honduran bananas. Five of them. Good luck charm. Locked door.

The government of Honduras would soon be attempting the first democratic transfer of power after years of military coups. The US government would want some unofficial eyes and ears on the ground, making sure the transition went smoothly. The election was in five days' time. Lee had once called her his good luck charm. His apartment locked with a deadbolt.

Lee was in Honduras. For five days. He wanted her to check in on his apartment.

That was simple. Or completely wrong. Maybe he really was concerned about her potassium levels, but she thought not.

"Mother, I have to run out for an errand. Can you put the boys to bed?" She grabbed her coat, her car keys, and a banana and ran out the door before her mother could ask any questions she didn't have truthful answers to.

And so here she was, parking in front of Lee's building and letting herself into his apartment with her very own key. She felt bold, and a little out of place. Like a girl trying on her mother's high heel shoes for the first time, knowing they wouldn't fit, but wanting to walk in them all the same, just to see how it felt to be someone else.

She picked up the envelopes scattered on the floor below the mail slot and placed them on the coffee table. Lifting the lid on Lee's tropical aquarium, she shook some fish flakes onto the water's surface.

"Hello, men. The big fella's out on active duty for a while, so I'm filling in for him. Straighten up and swim right."

Satisfied that all was in order with Lee's fish, Amanda looked around the room. The apartment was decorated in what could be referred to as bachelor chic. Lee's tastes ran to strong neutrals colours, ethnic art, and bold prints. It wasn't really her thing, but she had to admit that he had a good eye. Everything in the apartment looked like it had been selected to match and complement the décor, which was a lot more than you could say about most bachelor apartments. She briefly wondered if there was a woman's hand at work, but quickly discarded the idea. Everything exuded masculinity and she knew Lee had never lived with a woman before. Or at least, not at this address.

There was a disturbing thought. Lee living with a woman. It made her feel vaguely nauseous, and she pushed the idea from her mind.

Walking into the dining area, Amanda noticed the stacks of bone china and silver candlesticks he kept on the sideboard. For entertaining lady friends, obviously. Again with the twist in her gut. But she couldn't help picking up a candlestick and turning it over in her hand. It was heavier than she expected, and she considered its practicality as a weapon as she tested its weight in her palm. Curious, she turned it over so that she could look at the base. 925. No wonder the candlestick was so heavy. It was nearly pure sterling, and old too, by the look of the maker's mark.

"Why would Lee own $300 antique candlesticks?" she wondered aloud.

Putting down the mysterious candlestick, she walked back into the living room and settled into the sofa. A mohair blanket was draped over the back, and since she was still a bit cold from the outside air, she curled up underneath it. As her body heat began to warm the blanket, it released an aroma that was pure Lee, and she let out a happy sigh. She loved the way he smelled. Like fresh air, leather, and Paco Rabanne. Like a man.

Forcing her thoughts back to the present, she picked up the stack of mail she'd left earlier on the coffee table, thinking she could sort out the junk mail for him. As she sorted, she noticed one was postmarked Switzerland and bore the return address of a bank in Zurich.

"That's strange. Why would Lee be getting mail from a bank in Switzerland? He banks with Chase Manhattan."

But even as she formulated the thought, she knew the answer. He did his day-to-day banking with Chase. That was where he deposited his bi-weekly cheque from the Agency. The cheque that would hardly cover the rent for this apartment, his utilities, and basic necessities. The cheque that most definitively did not pay for his expensive sportscar. Nor his well-tailored suits and tuxedo. Nor those sterling silver candlesticks, and certainly not any beach vacations to Borneo.

Lee was independently wealthy.

Now that she'd reached that conclusion, she was shocked she hadn't figured it out sooner. It wasn't just his taste for fine material things. It was everything about him. His impeccable manners. His diction. The way he carried himself. His perfectly manicured cuticles. His taste in books, music, art. Hell, the man knew how to fence. God, she was obtuse. Why hadn't she profiled him earlier?

Four days later, Lee Stetson rested his duffle bag on the floor and unbolted his apartment door. It was good to be home. The election in Honduras had gone surprisingly smoothly, and he'd boarded his plane this morning with the same number of clips in his gun holster as he'd had when he left the States, which was something of a record. But despite the calm, or maybe because of it, he'd found his thoughts often straying to home as he worked long hours in the field. Had she understood his cryptic message? Billy had forbidden Lee from telling Amanda where he was going, but he hadn't specifically forbidden coded messages. He felt pretty confident she would have understood its meaning, which meant that while he was away, she had been here, in his apartment, looking at and touching his things. It gave him a pleasant, odd feeling in his gut as he opened his front door.

He knew it was her before his hand reached his Glock, but drew it anyway, out of habit.

"Welcome home. Don't shoot, please."

"Amanda."

"The same. How was Honduras?" she was curled up in his favourite corner of his sofa, under his favourite blanket, eating a banana.

"Uneventful. What brings you here?" Try as he might, he couldn't keep the note of testiness out of his voice. He wanted her to be in his apartment while he was gone, but he wasn't certain he wanted her to be in his apartment now that he was back. Which was unfair, he acknowledged, but there it was. Loners were not unmade overnight, and he was tired and in need of a shower after his long flight.

"Just wanted to deliver a full report. The fish and I did alright, but I think they missed you. The little orange one especially. Your super stopped by with a package which I signed for and left over there. It's not a bomb and non-perishable – I checked. I sorted your mail into two piles on the table: bills and correspondence. And I stocked up your refrigerator with a few basics, in case you were hungry and didn't feel like waiting for delivery when you got back." She was rambling. She'd been expecting him all evening, but now that he was here, and he was real, and he was standing there in his jeans that fit him just so, a faded t-shirt and a brown leather jacket, his hair looking like it knew a comb by reputation only, she was losing her nerve.

"You never told me you were rich." The words were out of her mouth before she could reconsider them.

"What? What are you talking about? Who says I'm rich?" He was now very certain that he'd made a major miscalculation in leaving her his key. He should have overfed his fish and hoped for the best. All the while he had been imagining her in his apartment, tidying up a bit, maybe sneaking a peek into his underwear drawer, but no. Not Amanda. In typical fashion, she'd jumped over the obvious and landed right where she didn't belong.

"I'm talking about your being independently wealthy. You've been gone awhile, and I thought it might be … interesting … to profile you. And good practice, too. Spy practice, that is. And from the clues and some logical deduction, I think I've pieced together a lot about you that somehow got left out during our almost non-existent conversations about your life before we met."

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, like they did when he was facing a physical threat.

"Amanda, I'm tired. I'm travel-weary, and I smell like tropical fruit. Can we please save the intuitive hopscotch for another day?" When in doubt and desperate to throw your persistent partner off the scent, act like a jerk. It usually worked, with the unfortunate side-effect that it made him feel terrible afterwards and almost always resulted in some sort of reconciliatory gesture. Come to think of it, he rather enjoyed the reconciliatory gesture part, but not the bit where he felt both like a kicked dog and the foot that had done the kicking.

Sure enough, her demeanour changed immediately. It would be impressive how deftly he could manipulate her emotions, if it didn't make him so damn sad.

"Sure, you're right. You've got better things to do than listen to me practice being a secret agent. I'll leave."

He took a long step and halted her progress towards the front door with a hand on her forearm.

"No, Amanda. Don't go. I didn't mean that I wanted you to leave. It's just that I really need a shower and some clean clothes. If I promise to be more hospitable, will you stay? Once I'm cleaned up, we can grab a snack and I'll tell you all about this spider monkey that tried to frisk me while I was doing surveillance, and you can tell me all about how you figured out, well, what you think you figured out."

"Girl spider monkey or boy spider monkey?" she teased, and he laughed as he brought his duffle bag into his bedroom, swinging the door closed behind him. Despite her better angels, she couldn't help but glance towards the French doors that divided his bedroom from the rest of the apartment, to watch his silhouette as he undressed. Lucky spider monkey.

Damp from his shower and dressed in his varsity sweats, Lee rested his bare feet on his coffee table and shared a plate of crackers, cheese and fruit with his sofamate. She was still chuckling after his dramatic re-enactment of his spider monkey adventure, which he'd exaggerated horribly, just to hear her laugh. Reconciliatory gesture accepted.

"Thanks, Amanda."

"Not a problem. The advantage of your penchant for smelly cheese is that the line between what is gourmet and what is mouldy is somewhat blurry. You might want to chase that with something stronger than iced tea, just to be safe."

"I don't just mean for the snack. I mean for checking in on my apartment while I was away. For taking care of my fish. And for putting up with me being, well, me. I'm not sure why you do it, although I'm sure glad you do."

"Maybe I'm just in it for your money." she smirked, making sure he knew she was teasing.

"Yeah. Are you really going to make me talk about that?" He crossed and uncrossed his legs, bumping shoulders with her as he tried not to look like he was squirming. She placed a hand on his thigh.

"No, I'm going to make you sit there listen to me talk about that. Think of it as my homework assignment from spy school."

Amanda then proceeded to explain how sorting his mail had led her to conclude that he was independently wealthy. She spoke quietly, looking straight ahead in the dim apartment, instead of at him. But she left her hand on his thigh, gentling him so that he wouldn't bolt, large nervous animal that he was.

And then she began to relate the conclusions she'd inferred from her chance discovery of his Swiss bank statement. She enumerated all the little details that qualified her hunch, right down to his fingernails. Now she really had his attention, because she was doing a bang-up job of profiling him. He hadn't given her enough credit. She'd really been paying attention. It was quite flattering, if a little off-putting for someone so used to maintaining an air of mystery about him.

"It all started to fall into place once I made the Switzerland connection", she continued. "The fact that you can speak German and French. Your love of smelly cheese. Your Patek Philippe watch. Boarding school?"

Lee grunted.

"Geneva?"

"Lutzern. The colonel wanted me far from any … distractions. I'd caused enough trouble on remote military bases. No way was he leaving me alone in a cosmopolitan city with no legal drinking age. Lutzern was a provincial backwater that made up for its lack of nightclubs by being pretty and clean."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen. He'd been threatening me with boarding school for a couple years, but a certain, er, indiscretion with a three-star general's daughter sealed my fate."

"It must not have been easy for you, separated from the only family you had at such a young age."

"I grew up when my parents died, Amanda. It was me alone against the world from that day on."

He sensed her sadness at his atypical confession, and interpreted it as pity, which was the last thing he wanted.

"I don't pity you, Lee. If anything, the fact that you had such a difficult childhood and became the man that you are makes me admire you even more."

"You're definitely in it for my money" he quipped, uncomfortable that she'd seemed to read his thoughts.

"Well, I don't know. How much money are we talking about? You can be a pretty big pain in the butt sometimes, so I hope we're talking big bucks."

"About six million dollars, give or take."

"Lee! I was teasing. I didn't actually expect you to say. God, six million?"

"Well, as you said, I'm a pretty big pain in the ass."

"But … I guess I don't understand. How? "

"My parents, Amanda. Well, my mother, specifically. She was the only child of a successful British businessman. When they died, I inherited everything. It went into a trust first, and my uncle used the money to raise me, but when I turned twenty-one, it was all transferred into my name. But I didn't want it. I ignored the calls and letters from my family's banker for the longest time, and then I eventually just told them to invest it in something stable. That was right around the same time I was recruited by the Agency."

"But what changed? You obviously spend some of the money now. I mean, look at your car." she tried to make light.

"I dunno. I grew up, I guess. Saw a lot of good people die. Realized that life is for the living, and that my parents never would have wanted me to feel guilty about spending their gift to me. But I've never squandered it. I set up an annual stipend that's only a fraction of the interest earned on the principal. I won my car in a poker game, for the record."

"Pretty high stakes poker game."

"What's that expression you like? No guts, no glory?"

She smiled, and then looked down at her hand on his thigh.

"I'm sorry, Lee. This makes you incredibly uncomfortable, doesn't it? I probably should have bit my tongue, but I was so proud of myself for figuring it out on my own. You say so little about yourself, and I'm such an open book…"

"Not so open after all, Ms. Spy-in-Training. That was some excellent logical deduction." He was tempted to leave it at that, but it was important that she know that he hadn't been deliberately dishonest with her. "I wasn't trying to keep it a secret from you, Amanda. I just don't like to talk about it." He placed his hand over hers, and she turned up her palm so their fingers could entwine.

"I understand."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Lee could no longer suppress his yawn.

"Time for bed, Rockefeller?" she joked, standing up and reluctantly releasing his hand.

"Yeah. Long day. I'll walk you to your car."

"I'll leave your key here on the table." she said, reaching into her purse.

"Keep it. You never know when I might need you to come over here again." He looked at her with sleepy eyes that made it abundantly clear that he wasn't talking about feeding his fish, and her toes curled into the area rug.

"Just say the word, Lee."


	3. Chapter 3

Observation

"So, if you had to name the qualities that made a good agent, what would you say?" she queried.

They were sitting at his dining room table, sharing a take-out container of chow mein and finishing a case report that was due the next day.

"An unwavering loyalty to one's partner, combined with an obsessive need to complete his paperwork for him" he immediately quipped.

She smirked and shook her head. He was as incorrigible as a schoolboy. A tall, moody, heroic schoolboy.

Lee took a long pull from his bottle of pilsner and considered the serious answer that her question deserved.

"I guess it takes a combination of things that can be taught, and others that can't. You can train anyone to fire a gun, but hand-eye co-ordination is innate. Likewise, anyone can read and memorize the manual on undercover operations, but you've seen firsthand how a positive outcome usually comes down to quick thinking and creative problem solving."

"What else?" she asked, enjoying the simple intimacy of sharing a meal and listening to Lee's low voice.

"Well, obviously you need to be in good shape. And it helps if you are mechanically or mathematically inclined, especially now that more and more espionage is done electronically."

"It's probably for the best that the Agency wasn't paying attention last week when Leatherneck tried to teach you how a wiretap worked, then" she teased.

"I swear he was purposefully making it more complicated than it needed to be. He likes to show off in front of you." he defended himself.

"Uh huh." As much as she enjoyed their light-hearted banter, she wasn't quite finished picking his brains. "But what about female agents? Obviously most women aren't as strong or as fast as their male counterparts, so why does the Agency recruit them?"

"If I say to help the male agents complete their paperwork on time, you're going to throw that noodle at me, aren't you?" he grinned.

"You know me too well."

"Right. Well, although it's true that women generally aren't as physically strong as men, they tend to score much higher on the emotional and psychological evaluations. And in the field, female agents are usually more successful at gathering intelligence than their male counterparts. It may be 1986, but people still don't expect a woman to be a spy and are much more likely to divulge information to her, especially if she's attractive. That's why the Agency prefers to hire beautiful women."

"I guess I better keep working on my marksmanship score." she joked.

"Amanda, you're as beautiful as they come." he murmured.

She looked at him with wide eyes, fork frozen in midair.

"I …"

He reached across the table and wiped a smudge of oyster sauce from the corner of her mouth, sucking it from his thumb suggestively as he stared back at her. The seconds stretched out over the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears.

*ring*

The sound of his ringing telephone intruded, and he rose slowly to answer it. She watched his retreating back, wondering what had just happened, and how she could make sure it happened again.

"Stetson here. Hello, Billy. We, er, I was just working on it. Eight thirty tomorrow morning? Sure. No, that's alright, I can let her know. Alright. Goodnight, Billy."

He came back to the table, and she could tell that the moment had been lost.

"Billy wants to go over our report tomorrow morning, before his meeting with Dr. Smythe. I guess we better finish it up before it gets any later." he said with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

"Alright, I'm almost done my part. Did you need me to look over yours?"

"Sure, that would be great. Excuse me for a minute." as he headed for his bedroom.

Thirty minutes later, they were both satisfied with the contents of the report.

"I guess I should get going. We've got an early start tomorrow." she said reluctantly.

"Before you go, I was thinking some more about what we were talking about earlier."

"About my being beautiful?" she tested.

"I'm never not thinking about that. No, about what qualities make a great agent. I'd add excellent powers of observation. You have to be able to notice things, even if you don't know what you're looking for. They used to test us by making each trainee observe a table with a hundred objects on it, and then we'd leave the room, and someone would move or change five of the objects, and you had one minute to notice all the differences."

"That sounds incredibly difficult. How do you do it?"

"The trick is actually not to get bogged down in the details. The brain is a lot like a computer. It can only store so much detailed information in short term memory. So you need to trigger your deeper subconscious memory by looking at the bigger picture, and noticing the relationships between things instead. Sort of like not seeing the trees for the forest. That's the only way I can explain it."

"Do you think we could try it?"

"What, now?" he was surprised at her willingness to stay. Normally when he pushed up against the shifting boundaries between them, she took some time to herself to recalibrate.

"Well, only if it's no trouble." Truth be told, she didn't want to leave yet. Lately, she felt like a broken compass, with her needle spinning wildly in circles, but when she was near him, his strong magnetic pull stabilized her, pointing her clearly in his direction.

"No, no trouble at all. Why don't you go in the bedroom, and I'll set up the test in here."

"In the bedroom, huh?" she joked.

"Whatever you do, don't look in the nightstand drawer."

"That was a horrible attempt at reverse psychology, Scarecrow." she shot over her shoulder as she closed the French double doors.

His bedroom was dark, lit only by the light coming through the curtains from the living room. So this is where the magic happens, she thought as she sank onto his bed. It was actually a fairly Spartan room, with clean crisp sheets and a duvet on a comfortable queen-sized mattress, a large walnut dresser, matching nightstand, and a bedside light. Considering his reputation, she'd half expected mirrors on the ceiling the first time she'd entered the room. She'd heard enough stories of his conquests around the Agency to know that Lee Stetson was a gentleman who treated his lovers so well that they were willing to overlook his complete phobia of long-term commitment. It fit with what she knew of him. He was neither a womanizer nor a misogynist; he was simply a sensual person who preferred to live his life without any romantic attachments. Without many attachments of any kind, actually.

Which begged the question what she was doing in his bedroom at ten thirty at night, getting giddy at the thought of his finding her beautiful. She had two young children and a mortgage. She was in no position to start a purely physical relationship with a co-worker, no matter how amazing she imagined the sex would be. And yet she kept coming back for more, willingly walking down the path he was clearing with his smoky looks and suggestive touches. She was either extremely misguided, or already falling in love. And she prided herself on the sensible head she kept on her shoulders.

"If all he wanted was a notch on his bedpost, he could have seduced me months ago", she rationalized. She had never been immune to his charms and he'd had ample opportunity. But he seemed as cautious as she was, making certain that their partnership both at the office and outside of it was safe. She knew that she was his closest and most trusted friend, and she imagined that he was torn between protecting that relationship, and giving in to the rising tide of desire, just as she was. But he had been quietly, subtly courting her for the past few months. It was completely atypical behaviour for him, and it made her insides feel like warm taffy.

"Ready, Amanda." his voice from the other room broke into her reverie. She opened the French doors and scanned the room. What had Lee said? Try not to see the trees for the forest.

"I've moved or changed five things that are in plain sight, all in this room. You've got sixty seconds, starting now." he said as he activated his stopwatch.

Concentrating on her memory of the room as it normally appeared; she slowly scanned the room from left to right.

"You've switched those two paintings around." she said immediately.

"That's one."

"Those sofa cushions aren't normally bunched together like that."

"Two."

"Uhhh, the rolltop on your desk was closed when I left the room." she noticed.

"Three. Thirty seconds left."

Amanda felt tension tightening her throat. She wanted very badly to pass his test. Shaking her head to clear it, she took a deep cleansing breath and tried to take in as much of the room as possible as she scanned this time from right to left."

"Ah, that lampshade is on crooked."

"Four. Good job. One more. Ten seconds."

Observing the coffee table, she knew that something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Think, Amanda, think. What was different about the coffee table? A droplet of water beaded on the wood next to a magazine.

"There was a half-empty glass of water on the coffee table when I left the room." she said in a rush, just as he called time.

"And that's five. I'm impressed. Especially for noticing what wasn't there. It took me a while before I got the hang of that."

She smiled at his praise, thrilled by the idea that one day she could move beyond being his partner, and become his equal at work.

"Look, Amanda, it's almost eleven, and you've got a long drive to get home. Did you want to stay here?" She obviously looked a bit taken aback at his offer, because he immediately clarified, "I can sleep on the couch."

As practical as the idea sounded on its surface, she had a feeling she knew where it would lead. The memory of his scalding look before Billy's phone call earlier sprang to mind.

"Not tonight, but thanks for offering, Lee. I need to be home tomorrow morning the help get the boys ready for school."

"Alright. I'll walk you to your car." she could hear the disappointment in his voice, and knew that she'd made the right decision. It wasn't time for them quite yet.

Still, when they reached her car and he'd unlocked and opened the driver's side door for her, she didn't immediately get in and instead leaned back against the car and looked up into his eyes. Kiss me. Kiss me. If ever there was a time for mental telepathy to work, it was now.

His eyebrow cocked as he read the request on her face, and then he was bending slowly towards her, clasping their hands together between them. The first brush of his lips was so light, it barely registered. He pulled back an inch, scanning her eyes for any hint of doubt. Seeing none, he lowered his lips to hers more surely, brushing against her from a variety of angles until he found the one they both liked the best. She could feel his hands trembling. Minutes might have passed as they kissed each other sweetly, almost innocently, until he finally broke contact and rested his forehead against hers.

"Goodnight, beautiful Amanda. Drive safely." he husked, his voice even lower than its usual register.

"Goodnight, Lee."

He turned to walk back to his apartment when she stopped him.

"Oh, Lee?"

"Mmmm?"

"I just realized that there were six things different in your living room upstairs."

"Six?"

"Yeah. You usually dress to the left." And with that observation, she climbed into her car and pulled away.


	4. Chapter 4

Peripheral Vision

Stanford-Binet Deviation IQ – 138

Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory – T score of 32

Physical Assessment Test – 96th percentile

Small Firearm Qualification Test – 94th percentile

Hand-Eye Coordination Test – 98th percentile

Psychological Evaluation – 92nd percentile

Trier Social Stress Test – 99th percentile

Foreign Language Proficiency Test – 94th percentile

"God, Lee. Is there anything you're not good at?" She was sitting on his sofa, reading through his Agency recruitment package from 1973, trying to get some ideas on how to proceed with her unofficial training program.

Lee stuck his head out of the kitchen, where he was washing their dinner dishes, and flashed her a rakish grin.

"Nothing that's worth doing well." He winked at her, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

She shook her head at his irrepressible self-confidence. In her experience, men who were that cocky were over-compensating for something, but she was willing to concede that in his case, it was likely well-founded. Or rather, the thing that he was compensating for was neither a physical nor mental defect, but something a lot less tangible. He certainly kissed like an angel, she remembered of their brief encounter outside his apartment the other night, unconsciously bringing her fingers to her lips.

She looked down at the black and white headshot of twenty-three year old Lee in his file, and wondered, not for the first time, what had drawn him to espionage. He could have been a successful lawyer, gym teacher, fighter pilot, accountant. OK, maybe not an accountant. But there were certainly many career paths available to him that didn't involve weekly brushes with death and the necessity of hiding the nature of his work from all but a tiny handful of souls. People with money and education usually self-selected into careers that suited their personality traits. So how did espionage scratch his psyche's itch?

"He gets to help others while remaining aloof and unknowable, and he has an excuse not to form permanent attachments." she said aloud, seeing the truth of her assessment mirrored on the psychological evaluation in his file.

"What's that, Amanda?" he called out.

"I said, you must have been that Agency recruiter's wet dream." she improvised as he came out of the kitchen, the front of his dress shirt damp with dishwater.

"Well, she did seem rather taken with me." There was that impish grin again, complete with a dimple.

"Lee, please tell me you didn't …"

"Sleep my way into my job at the Agency? No. That would have been ill-advised, even for me. And set a horrible precedent for when Billy became my supervisor."

She chuckled in agreement, then turned her attention back to his file.

"Peripheral vision test. What's that one?"

"Well, having a wide field of peripheral vision is beneficial to an agent. It allows them to see a threat approaching from the side, and is a strong indicator for a fast reaction time. Almost like having eyes in the back of your head."

"Is it complicated? Could you test me?"

"Sure, I think I could rig something up. Just give me a few minutes." He was secretly thrilled she was sticking around. They'd been seeing each other outside of work more lately, and had shared a sweet kiss beside her car the other night, but Amanda generally had to get home early to her family. Tonight, however, the kids were at a sleepover.

He busied himself gathering items from around his apartment. His cowboy statue. A roll of masking tape. A pencil. A sheet of coloured stickers. Talking all the while.

"The human eye is actually pretty amazing. For example, did you know that when you see something on your right periphery, you're actually seeing it with your left eye?"

"No, I didn't." she knew enough about his little lectures to know her active participation wasn't required. He was really just talking to himself, only out loud.

"And that the average field of vision for an adult male is 120 degrees, but 130 degrees for an adult female. Women are better visually equipped to see danger approaching from the wings, which is probably an evolutionary adaptation due to their smaller body size and the fact that they bear children. Nature protecting the species, and all that."

She wondered where he had learned everything he knew.

"No human has a field of vision wider than 170 degrees, however, so don't try to cheat the test, 'cause I'll know. That's also an interesting fact, because in the wild, animals with excellent peripheral vision, like a horse or a deer, are typically prey, whereas animals with narrower fields of vision, like a wolf, are usually predators."

He stepped immediately in front of her as he finished his short dissertation, and she found herself looking into his hazel eyes. Predator, indeed.

He cleared his throat and took a half-step backwards, and she broke her gaze away.

He had placed two lines of masking tape on the floor in a wide V. His cowboy statue was on his dining room table, about ten feet away.

"Alright, so you need to stand at the base of this V, and look directly at my Bruce Scriver statue. Try to keep your eyes relaxed. Don't stare or strain them. The masking tape lines represent a standard field of peripheral vision. Or at least the best I could manage without a protractor. I'll stand behind you holding a pencil in your periphery, and you tell me when you can no longer see it. Got it?"

"Sure, but how do I know you're not making faces at me back there?" she quipped, a bit uneasy with him standing so close without being able to look at him.

"You don't, Amanda. You're just going to have to trust me."

Trusting him was second nature to her, so she nodded quietly, feeling him settle in just shy of touching her back, and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No." she indicated as he moved the pencil progressively nearer her right ear. His forearm was bare as he'd rolled up the sleeves of his workshirt to wash the dishes, and she saw his skin with microscopic clarity; light olive and covered with fine brown hair.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No." as he repeated the same exercise on her left side, only this time she concentrated on how he smelled. His shirt must have been freshly laundered, because she could smell his detergent, as well as a slight whiff of the dishwater he'd splashed on himself earlier. She had no idea her senses could be so attuned to the nuances of a person's smell.

"Alright, now we're going to test for your ability to perceive colour and shape in your periphery. The eye can only focus on shape in a much narrower field of vision. The field for colour is slightly wider."

"Umhmm." She was distracted by the warmth of his breath on her neck, his late night radio DJ voice right beside her ear. She was the first woman in history to become aroused while being given an eye test, she was certain. He had to know. He knew everything.

He stepped away to collect the sheet of stickers, and she heard another rustling sound, and then tiny pebbles falling. Stepping back to his position behind her, he extended a finger far to her right.

"Now, tell me when you can see what colour this is."

"Green."

"Good, and what shape?" His arm extended over her shoulder, moving his hand further and further towards the middle of her field of vision. His bicep brushed against her cheek, and she fought the urge to stop staring at that damn cowboy and rub her cheek against his warm skin.

Wait. Warm skin? The last time she'd looked at him, he'd still been wearing his dress shirt from the office, but that was obviously no longer the case. Which meant that while she was staring forward dumbly, he was standing inches away from her, bare-chested, and she was missing it.

"Amanda? Shape?" he sounded slightly amused. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, damn him.

"Oh, uh, square."

"Right. Last one."

Leaving his right arm where it was, he began to move his left arm to join it, effectively hugging her loosely from behind.

"Orange. Triangle. Lee, why aren't you wearing a shirt?" the words came out in a breathless rush.

"Who says I'm not wearing a shirt? Have you actually got eyes in the back of your head?" She could see his grin, even while looking the other way, so that was one possible explanation. The other was simply that she knew him that well. And even though he was teasing her, she understood that it wasn't a deliberate taunt. It was just his way of moving their relationship forward in a non-threatening way.

She truly did trust him better than anyone else on earth, and she knew that if she walked away now, nothing would change. He would still be her flirtatious, noble, incredible partner. But this opportunity to move towards something more, something greater than they already were would be lost.

She'd never been a fan of missed opportunities, and so she turned around.

"Hi." he said, almost shy all of a sudden. His arms were still wrapped loosely around her shoulders.

"Hi yourself." she looked into his eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt that regardless of who had the wider field of vision, he was the predator, and she was his prey. She shivered, looked down at his bare chest, and shivered again.

"My shirt was wet." he excused himself.

"Uh-huh. You just wanted to see if I'd notice."

"Which you did. Your peripheral vision is excellent."

"I somehow doubt this is how the Agency administers its test."

"Well, there's something to be said for improvisation, don't you think?"

Her hands moved to his chest of their own volition, smoothing over his taut muscles. She heard his breath catch in his throat, and felt a secret thrill that she could affect him just as profoundly as he affected her. She leaned forward slightly, inviting him to bend down so that their lips could meet. His eyes locked on her mouth as he moved closer, but at the last possible moment she ducked her head and placed a kiss on his left pectoral, just over his heart, and then gave him a little nip in punishment for teasing her, although she was far from angry with him. While he was momentarily stunned flat-footed, she ducked out of the circle of his arms, gathered her coat and bag, and made her way towards his front door.

"I couldn't agree with you more."


	5. Chapter 5

Surveillance

He arrived at the fountain in Dumbarton Oaks Park at 11:25am. The plan was to start walking at 11:30, and see how long she could tail him before he spotted her. He'd die before saying so to Amanda, but he didn't give her much chance. He had thirteen years of experience at spotting a tail, and in this case the added advantage of knowing that he was being followed and who was doing the following. Plus, it was Amanda, and he was hyper-attuned to her presence. Still, it was a good idea that she work on her surveillance skills, and there was something tantalizing about her following him around, watching his every move.

He scanned the area for her, although he knew she'd be hidden somewhere nearby, waiting for him to start walking. It was unseasonably warm for DC in May, and the park was full of tourists, young families, and people out for a Saturday stroll. A group of women in aerobics outfits were stretching after their morning run. He looked them over appreciatively, the tight Spandex not leaving much to his imagination. Even though he'd been unofficially monogamous for over six months, he wasn't dead.

At 11:30, he started to walk quickly towards the rose garden near the southern end of the park. It was the perfect place to flush out a tail, where he could rely on his superior experience to double back and catch her. Then they could grab some lunch and he could try to convince her to spend the afternoon with him, just hanging around Georgetown. He knew her boys had a softball game today, but not until much later. Maybe if he played his cards right, she would invite him to go watch.

Doubling back easily between the trellises of flowers just coming into bloom, he looked for Amanda. To his surprise, there was no sign of her, so he continued out onto S Street and made his way quickly towards Wisconsin Avenue. She'd have to get closer to him to avoid losing him in all that pedestrian traffic. At the corner of Wisconsin and R Street, he stopped and pretended to tie his shoelace. Looking around him, he still couldn't spot Amanda. One of the leotard-wearing women from the park was coming towards him wearing a sun-visor over her short brown hair. It was the same one who had caught his attention in the park, and he wanted to make eye contact with her, to see if she was as pretty as he imagined, but she turned to cross Wisconsin as the light changed. Oh well. It wasn't like he was going to try to pick her up. His days of casual encounters with strange women were behind him. And the reason for that dramatic change in behaviour was currently thwarting his best attempts to detect her. Where the hell was Amanda?

She saw him glance her way appreciatively and avoided eye contact by crossing Wisconsin. Her aerobics get-up and short wig were a stroke of genius, but she knew once he locked eyes with her, the gig would be up. From the opposite side of Wisconsin, she saw him head south at his usual brisk clip. She followed about 20 feet behind, admiring the view of his tight ass in the faded jeans he wore outside of the office. It was a long list, but it definitely ranked as one of his better features.

She saw him suddenly veer left onto P Street and trotted across the busy avenue to avoid losing him. A horn honked, and she had to dodge the front fender of a taxi turning right onto Wisconsin. When she looked back up, she'd lost sight of Lee. She continued to walk east, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but knowing her luck was probably up. Looking at her watch, she saw it was 12:05. Thirty-five minutes. Not bad.

Someone reached out and grabbed her by the arms, almost lifting her into the alley and pinning her against a brick wall. She let out a squeak of panic.

"Shhh, it's just me." he re-assured her while shifting gently against her with his weight. He pushed her sun-visor up and away from her eyes, sliding her wig off her head, and letting both fall onto the ground.

"You spotted me." she said disappointedly. She had been fairly certain he hadn't recognized her, but she'd obviously been wrong.

"Only during the last block of Wisconsin or so. Up until then, I was convinced we'd mixed up our time to meet at the park, and that some hot chick in an aerobics outfit was checking me out." he ran his hands down her sides appreciatively.

"Oh, she was. I've been staring at your ass for the past thirty-five minutes. We should practice surveillance more often." she said flirtatiously.

"Why, did you like what you saw?" he was so close to her now, she could count the golden flecks in his irises.

She answered him by sliding her hands down his back and into the back pockets of his jeans, giving his butt a gentle squeeze and pulling him even harder against her.

"Mmmm, Amanda, we're in a very public place, and I am about thirty seconds away from doing something very unbecoming for a federal agent."

"You make a lot of promises, Lee Stetson, but I've yet to see you act on them." she threw her head back defiantly, daring him to be bold.

His answer was to crush his body against hers, grinding their hips together in a way that left no doubt about his desire for her. Pulling her loose hair back from her neck, he bent his lips and proceeded to kiss and nuzzle his way from underneath her chin to her earlobe, which he took between his teeth and sucked gently.

She gasped, trying to pull him even closer against her and rubbing frantically against his hard body. If climbing inside him had been an option, she would have taken it.

"Hey, hey. Amanda. Slow down. It's okay."

His words acted like a bucket of ice water, as she realized that she had been dry humping her partner in broad daylight in an alley just off P Street. Classy, Amanda.

"I'm sorry." she muttered into his chest, unable to look at his face.

"Hey. New rule. Let's never apologize for wanting one another." he placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. She saw nothing but understanding in his eyes, and let out the breath she'd been holding.

"You hate rules."

"Yeah, and I've always been able to spot a tail within a block before today, and look how well that turned out."


	6. Chapter 6

Endurance (warning - adult content)

"Ready, Mary Decker?" he quipped as she stepped onto the treadmill.

"Very funny. Tell me the intervals for the Beep Test, again?"

"You warm up for five minutes at a slow jog, then increase your speed by one mile per hour every two minutes until you can't continue. Your score is the speed for the last two minute interval that you completed successfully. Anything over eight miles per hour is a passing score."

"What's your best score?"

"Amanda …"

"No, really, I want to know."

"Twelve miles per hour, if you have to know, but Amanda, I'm a tall man with long legs. And this isn't a competition. The idea here is to make sure you can outrun the bad guy. Fortunately for us, the majority of criminals don't focus on their cardiovascular fitness. You should be able to escape without breaking a sweat."

He knew he'd made a big mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Escape? Escape? Tell me, Lee, when you're running 12 mph, are you imagining running towards, or away from the perp? And what gives you the right to assume that I'll be doing any differently?"

"Amanda, I didn't mean …"

She didn't hear him, as she'd already slipped her headphones over her ears and cranked the volume on her Walkman. Punching the button for 5 mph on the treadmill, she began to jog, her mouth set in a firm line, determination written on her face, and the Talking Heads drowning out any of Lee's further attempts at apologies.

Lee stood beside the treadmill, timing her on his stopwatch. Five minutes in, he increased the speed to 6 mph. At 7 mph, Amanda began to breathe regularly through her mouth.

She and Lee had run together occasionally since her unofficial agent training had begun, and she'd quietly observed his technique. There was no denying he was in excellent physical condition, but what struck her most was his control over his breathing. He forced himself to breathe in a steady rhythm that matched the cadence of his footfalls: out out, long in, out out, long in. In the privacy of her own thoughts, she admitted she found Lee running an incredibly erotic site. It was something about his utter concentration on physical exertion to the exclusion of all else.

Two minutes at 8 mph came and went, and she still felt strong. She heard Lee's voice ask her something, but couldn't make out the words over her music. No matter, she knew what he'd said, and she nodded in the affirmative before re-focusing on her breathing. Yes, Lee, I want to keep going.

At 10 mph, she began to pant. Sweat was pouring down her forehead, but she'd at least had the good sense to wear a headband. The muscles in her legs were aching. But she sensed she had one more gear. She could feel Lee's gaze on her, and saw his hand hover over the stop button. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, pushing it away, before increasing the speed herself to 11 mph.

"Amanda, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

She ignored his plea, although there was a good chance he was right. But she narrowed her focus to her breathing and the sound of her footfalls over the hard beat of the music. Out out, long in. Out out, long in. There was nothing else in the world but this.

Beep.

Finally breaking her gaze away from her reflection in the gym wall mirror, she dialed down the pace on the treadmill to a slow jog, and then a leisurely walk, taking off her headphones as she did. She was gasping for air, and the large muscles of her thighs twitched rapidly in protest. Finally able to look over at Lee, she had to smile at the expression on his face. He looked like he'd just witnessed a miracle, and perhaps he had. She'd never run like that before in her life. But now she knew she could, and it gave her an immense sense of pride and confidence.

"You're amazing." he murmured.

"Still think I need to improve my escape speed?" she threw at him, not entirely willing to let him forget his earlier gaff.

"I'm sorry I said that. Really. I'm so conditioned to think of you as someone else I need to protect, it's going to take some practice before I always remember that you're a more-than-capable agent in your own right. But I'll keep trying until I figure it out."

Amanda gave him her warmest smile. That was the thing about Lee. He could say hurtful, stupid things, but underneath it all, she knew he had an abiding respect for her and her abilities. And he knew how to admit he was wrong. It was an attractive quality in a man.

"You're going to be sore, you know."

"Yeah, most likely. I should probably do some stretching, and then go home and grab a hot shower. See if I can't stave off some of the aches."

The appreciative, assessing look he'd been giving her since the end of her test darkened, and she realized that he was imagining her in the shower. She waited to see how he'd react, now that they were moving towards some new sort of …. whatever you wanted to call it. It wasn't a long wait.

"Lactic acid starts to build up in your muscles immediately after a hard run. You should really have that shower sooner rather than later. Why not at my place? It's just around the corner, and then you won't have to wait until you drive home to Arlington."

"That would be great. And you know what else is great for releasing lactic acid from sore muscles? A nice firm massage." He wasn't the only one capable of moving things forward.

She left him standing beside the treadmill and went to gather her workout bag from the ladies change room. Truth be told, she could have had a hot shower here at the gym, but that wasn't what this was about, and they both knew it. Day after day, week after week, they had been slowly pushing one another towards an invisible line, like some kind of twisted game of chicken, each one wondering when the other would back away. But neither had, and now here they were, walking the three short blocks from the gym to Lee's apartment building hand-in-hand, outwardly comfortable in that easy intimacy while inwardly hyper-aware of the other and what they were walking towards.

Lee held the apartment door open for her and followed her into his living room.

"If you give me your clothes, I can put them in the wash while you shower. There's nothing worse than having to put sweaty clothes back on after you clean up."

"Thanks. That would be nice."

Remembering the euphoria after her run, and the look on his face, Amanda took a deep breath and stepped over the invisible line. Standing in his living room, back towards Lee, she slowly peeled off her tank top, running bra, socks, shorts and underwear, letting them drop quietly to the floor.

"Here you go." she said, stepping away from the pile of clothing and walking naked towards the bathroom, swaying her hips slightly for his benefit.

Out out, long in.

She didn't have the nerve to look over her shoulder at Lee as she walked away, but she knew exactly what she would see if she had. His hazel eyes would be bright pinpoints, fixed on her naked back. His hands would be clenched at his sides. He would look like a drowning man who had been thrown a liferope.

She left the main bathroom light off, finding security in the semi-darkness. A nightlight next to the vanity mirror bathed the room in dim yellow, casting shadows against all four walls. She turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just shy of scalding. Stepping under the spray, she threw her head back and let the hot water and steam work their magic on her scalp, neck and shoulders.

Even with her eyes closed and the steady hiss of the shower, she knew the moment he entered the bathroom. It was as though the tension in the room shifted, away from her, and towards his electric presence. She heard the shower curtain rustle, and felt him watching her in the half-light. Too shy to open her eyes, she nevertheless arched her back and heard his sharp intake of breath and then the sound of his feet hitting the shower floor. Something incredibly dangerous and reckless had taken control of her actions, and she could only observe passively, as though from outside herself, as she lifted her arms above her head and ran her fingers through her wet hair.

"Turn around." he whispered near her ear, and his strong hands on her shoulders pivoted her towards the showerhead wall. His fingers began to stroke the wet skin of her shoulder blades with long, glancing touches. She couldn't stop the shudder that ran down her spine. For all the million times that he'd touched her, this was different. This touch was deliberately arousing, and there was no denying its success. Her body felt like the business end of a live wire.

His hands moved down her back, rubbing and soothing in equal measure for a long time, as though introducing them both to this new level of intimacy. And then suddenly they were gone. She hardly had time to wonder why when she heard his knees hit the shower floor, and he began to kneed the muscles of her legs.

"Not too hard?" he asked.

"No such thing." she quipped, enjoying his chuckle at the inevitable innuendo. It was comforting to know that even now, in the middle of this enormous new thing, they were still Lee and Amanda. Still friends who had made verbal foreplay an art form long before either were willing to admit where the current of desire was pulling them.

His hands were now sweeping up and down each leg, coming closer and closer to her ass on each pass. And then there they were, large palms cupping her cheeks while his strong fingers dug into her hip bones.

"Running is tough on the hip flexors as well."

"You're nothing if not thorough." she gasped.

"You have no idea." and with that he placed a warm kiss on her left hip, before making his way slowly along the small of her back to the other side.

The moan she let escape echoed in the small room, and he doubled down on the attention he was paying her lower back with his lips, all the while continuing the gentle massage of her legs and ass.

"God, Lee."

"Spread your feet wider." he demanded as he stood up suddenly behind her, and it occurred to her that he was absolutely certain she would comply. It wasn't even a question of if, anymore, but simply when. When had that been decided, she wondered briefly, before bracing her upper body against the cold tile and widening her stance.

His right hand finished one last pass over her hip, and then came to rest between the cheeks of her ass. Without warning, one long finger reached out and found her, easing inside. Simultaneously, his left hand slid down her belly and searched her out. Sensation came at her from two directions, and her body didn't know which one to push against. A move towards one source of pleasure was a move away from the other, and she keened out her confusion and frustration.

"Shhhh, shhhh. You can have both." he soothed as he began to alternate between slow circles with his left hand and probing with the middle finger of his right, leaning forward to kiss her neck.

"Not. Can't. Need." She didn't know what she was trying to convey to him, only that it was imperative that he knew what he was doing to her, so that he would never stop.

"My beautiful Amanda." he breathed into her wet hair. Sensing her increasing need, he bent the middle finger that was gliding in and out of her, using the knuckle to rub against some secret place deep inside. Her head flew back against his shoulder in immediate reaction, her breath again coming in gasps as she fought the rising sensation while at the same time welcoming it.

"Lee! Lee, please. Please. God, yes, please."

He was nothing if not well-mannered, and when a beautiful woman begged you to make her come, there was nothing to do but grant her wish. Circling her quickly with three fingers of his left hand, he entered her with a second bent finger and began thrusting in rhythm with her muscles' spasms.

Out out, long in. Out out, long in.

The sound of their harsh breathing rang in her ears. She leaned forward against her arms folded on the shower wall. Lee's long naked body was pressed against her, hot wet skin against hot wet skin. She could feel his erection twitching against her lower back, and wondered what she should do about it. Before she could decide, his left hand left her stomach where it had been resting and she felt his shoulder jerk up and down, once, twice, and then his sigh and the heat of him against her back, before the rivulets of water washed it away. It was, in a twisted way, the most romantic thing he'd ever done for her, taking any sense of obligation out of the equation, and tears pricked at her eyes. She tried to gain control over her emotions, but her mind was like a yo-yo, spinning and jumping from memory to panic and back to sweet memory again.

"Water's getting cold." he murmured in her ear, before stepping away from her to twist the faucet closed and grab a towel, which he handed to her before she turned around to face him. A second towel was quickly wrapped low around his hips, and he held out his hand to help her exit the shower.

"Don't slip."

Somehow, this struck Amanda as the funniest thing he'd ever said to her. Perhaps it was the emotional hysteria of the moment, but she began to giggle uncontrollably.

"What? What did I say? Don't slip?" he asked, confused. But then he thought about the events of the evening, and started to chuckle as well. It took a special sort of skill to manage to be lascivious and chivalrous within a span of two minutes.

Laughing, they finally looked at each other directly in the eye for the first time since entering his apartment a lifetime ago. And they knew, that whatever line had been crossed tonight, and a line had most certainly been crossed, they were both safe on the other side.


	7. Chapter 7

Defensive Driving (warning - adult content)

The Corvette took the corner at high speed, the performance suspension responding to the g force and pushing his body towards the driver's side door. He saw Amanda standing by the curb, clutching her purse and waiting for him. The tires squealed as he came to a sudden stop in front of her.

"Get in. We've only got thirty minutes left. Do you have it?"

"It's in my purse. How are we going to get all the way across town in thirty minutes?"

"Let me worry about that. You call Billy, tell him that the antidote is on its way. Ask him if he can get MPDC to block traffic on the westbound Beltway. We're going to need a clear runway if this is going to happen."

"What if we don't make it? She may be a double agent, but that poor woman doesn't deserve to die like that."

"Amanda, you know how I feel about what ifs. Call Billy. Please."

Letting his partner work out the logistics, Lee concentrated on driving. Sonja Krajisnik was under armed guard at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, dying of TCDD poisoning unless they could get the antidote in Amanda's purse to her in the next half hour. At least it was the weekend. If he could just get to the Beltway, he knew they could make it in time. He wove the car in and out of traffic, deaf to the blaring horns but exquisitely alert to everything around him. His hands held the leather steering wheel lightly, releasing from time to time to shift gears.

When he had first been recruited by the Agency, he had been subjected to a series of tests to measure his reaction to stress. Under pressure, every person produces cortisol which floods the frontal cortex of the brain, triggering the body's fight or flight reflex and stimulating the adrenal glands. Some individuals' receptivity threshold to cortisol was very low, meaning that every little stressful situation caused them to panic. For others the threshold was very high, which meant that it took a tremendous amount of stress to make them react. His was off the charts. Literally. The analyst performing the test recalibrated the machine twice, not believing the results. What it meant, in practical terms, was that the more volatile the situation, the calmer he became. It made him an exceptional agent, and it really came in handy when playing poker.

The onramp to the Beltway came in sight, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the MPDC officer blocking traffic and waving him through.

"Hang on, Amanda. Time to go fast."

"You mean we haven't been going fast up until now?" she squeaked.

He smiled, and then dropped the hammer. Shifting smoothly into fourth, he felt the 'Vette go into overdrive and focussed on the road. Amanda was completely silent beside him, which was a first. He hoped she wasn't too scared. Maybe he should have just grabbed her purse, and not risked her neck at 140mph. But that wouldn't have been right. This was her assignment too, and she was the one who had tracked down the antidote in a Georgetown University lab, convincing the graduate student who had developed it to release a vial to a perfect stranger posing as a medical ethics commissioner. She deserved to be there for the end, however it played out.

Peeling into the parking lot of NIH with three minutes to spare, Lee rolled down his window and passed the vial to the waiting medical team.

"Give 10ccs of this to Ms. Krajisnik immediately. Go! Go!", he said.

Billy sauntered up to the car.

"Nice work, Scarecrow. You saved that woman's life."

"It wasn't me, Billy. It was all Amanda. I just drove the car."

"Well done, Amanda."

"Thank you, sir. But we wouldn't have made it in time if it weren't for Lee's driving. All this time, I kind of thought the Corvette was just for show. I never realized being able to drive like Andretti was a job skill."

Lee smirked and looked over at Amanda. She was obviously none the worse for wear. In fact, she looked … exhilarated. Glancing down at her pale chiffon blouse, he saw the outline of her erect nipples. She may not realize it or be ready to admit it, but Amanda King had found their high speed car ride arousing. And that gave him an idea.

Two nights later, he pulled up across the street from Amanda's home. Letting himself into the backyard, he peeked through the window and saw her sitting on the couch, watching TV and shelling peas into a bowl. Making sure there was no-one else within earshot, he tapped lightly on the window.

She smiled warmly as she greeted him. Dressed in black jeans, a grey t-shirt and a black leather jacket, his hair damp and brushed away from his forehead, he looked like six feet two inches of bad intentions, and she wondered what her mother would say if she saw him standing there in her garden. Probably something about him being a negative influence. Then again, considering what they'd been doing in his shower a few weeks' back, she was more than willing to be led astray.

"What's the matter, Lee? Your Rogues Anonymous meeting get out early?"

He looked down at his black boots with mock self-consciousness.

"What, too much? It's always a fine balance between secret-agent-lover-man and Hell's Angels dropout."

"For Arlington, maybe a bit much. But it's a good look." she quickly clarified.

"Well, let's get out of Arlington, then. I thought we could go for a drive. And, uh, if you wanted. I mean, if you were interested, I could … show you how to drive my car." the last words uttered in a rush.

Well, that was unexpected.

"Lee, you don't let anyone drive your car. You won't even valet park it."

"I know, but I was thinking about what you said the other day, about fast driving being a job skill for an agent, and I think there's probably something to it. I mean, think about how many times you've been in a car chase since we've met, either as chaser or chasee. It couldn't hurt to practice. Plus, it's a lovely night."

"It is that." she said, looking him over appreciatively. "Let me leave my mother a note."

Traffic was light, and they drove west along the Dulles Greenway, making their way out of town. By the time they reached Leesburg (she'd teased him about the name), the highway was virtually empty and he let the Corvette loose. The sweet June air blowing through the half-open window, the quiet jazz playing on the stereo, and the thrum of the car's V8 lulled her into a light fugue state. She was wide awake, but had the impression that she was dreaming. Looking over at Lee, she allowed herself to admire his strong profile, the confident way he held the steering wheel, the ridge of his thigh muscles as he held his foot steady on the accelerator. She placed her hand there, prickling at the contact with the palpable energy that always seemed to emanate from his body. Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached down and picked up her hand, bringing it to his mouth and placing an open-mouthed kiss on her palm, before lowering it again to his leg.

It became suddenly very important that they reach their destination, wherever that was.

"Where are we?" she murmured.

"Skyline Drive. Shenandoah National Park."

"You come here often?" she joked.

"Only when I can't sleep, or I need to think."

He was always answering the questions she least expected him to. She had a sudden image of him, younger, lonely, driving through the night trying to make sense of it all, and she swallowed to clear the lump in her throat before speaking again. He had never asked her for her pity.

"So, as nice as this is, I'm not too clear on how it's going to help me the next time I'm in a car chase."

He smiled ruefully. "Sorry. I was sort of lost in the moment for a while. I'll pull over and you can drive us back to town."

He pulled into an empty parking lot and turned off the car. Without the headlights on, the sky was awash with stars, and there was virtually no noise except the ticking of the engine as it cooled.

"Here, slide over." she requested as she knelt on the floor of the passenger's seat.

"What? What are you doing down there?" he felt like he'd missed a page somewhere, and the story had progressed without him.

"Well, two things. First, I don't want to bump my head against your steering wheel. And second, I want to make certain I remember how to drive stick."

There was a long pause as he tried to decide if she actually meant what he thought she meant.

"Aman …"

"Shhh. Don't argue with me, or I'll lose my nerve."

He'd never been so grateful for the Corvette's low centre console with no emergency brake. He settled into the passenger's seat, still warm from her body, and wondered whether he was really back in his apartment, having a particularly lucid dream about Amanda running her deft hands up his thighs and tugging at his belt buckle.

"Amand …" he tried again.

"Shhhh. You talk too much." she teased and rested a finger over his lips to emphasize her point. He sucked the tip into his mouth and nipped lightly, letting her know her hypocrisy hadn't gone unnoticed. But he kept quiet. He wasn't a stupid man.

Lowering her hand to his lap, she drew a finger along the crease of his jeans.

"See? Left. I notice these things." referring to an earlier game they had played.

Hearing no response, she rewarded him by popping the button of his fly and lowering the zipper.

"Lift your hips a bit." She had no idea who was talking using her voice, but the lady obviously knew a thing or two about seduction, so she let her continue.

Sliding his jeans down to his thighs, she was confronted by the not insubstantial evidence of his arousal pushing against his boxers. The smell she associated with Lee filled the air, along with something new and elemental, like wet grass or the beach. Without forethought, she lowered her mouth towards his lap and let out a hot breath against the thin blue material. He groaned and shifted his weight, unconsciously pushing himself towards her. He'd undergone congressional budget reviews that were less torturous. Not that he was complaining.

She took pity on him and began to rub up and down his length through his boxers with her knuckles, then her whole hand. Soon, that wasn't enough, and she needed to see him and touch his skin.

Guessing her intention, he yanked the elastic waistband of his boxers down. He was fairly certain he looked ridiculous, fully dressed from the waist up and the knees down, but it was for a good cause, so he overlooked his usual over-abundant concern for his dignity. Just this once. Or until she offered again. Whatever came first.

Speaking of Amanda, where was she? He was naked, at least where it mattered. He was painfully erect. But sooner or later he'd be fighting a losing battle against the cool night air that blew in the car window, and that wasn't how he wanted the night to end. He'd never be able to look her in the eye again.

Looking down, he saw that she was staring down at him with bright eyes, a slightly worried frown on her lips. He reached down and touched her shoulder, ready to let her know that she was under no obligation to … well, do what was increasingly apparent she intended to do to him. His night had been made when she'd settled into the car next to him back in Arlington, and everything since then had been gravy. Delicious gravy, but gravy nonetheless.

She looked up into his eyes and what he saw there answered every question he'd never had the nerve to ask her.

"I didn't think it was possible, but every square inch of you is beautiful." she admitted. And with that she lowered her mouth onto him, taking him slowly inside her.

His head fell back against the seat and he gritted his teeth, fighting against the urge to thrust up against the warm, welcoming sensation. It had been awhile, but he still remembered his blowjob etiquette. His hands balled at his sides as he allowed her to set her own pace.

She'd never mastered the art of swallowing more than the first three inches, but he didn't appear to mind. His breath was coming faster and he was losing the battle against moving his hips. Breaking contact for a moment, she licked the palm of her left hand and grasped the base of him firmly, sliding her hand up and down in symphony with the renewed attention of her mouth.

"Yessssss."

Good feedback. But she wanted him absolutely outside himself with lust. She couldn't say why, but it was vital that she give him as much pleasure as he'd given her the other night in his shower. It was partly about the equality of their relationship, but it was about something else as well. Something about proving, not to him, but to herself, that she was just as passionate as he was, even if she didn't let on to the world that was the case.

She pulled back until only the tip of him was inside her mouth, making a ring with the thumb and index finger of her right hand and stroking the rest of his length firmly with it. Reaching down, she cupped his balls gently with her left hand. At the same time, she started tickling him with the tip of her tongue, right on the little divot where the foreskin met his shaft.

"Fu-uuu-uuuuck."

Bingo. Lee hardly ever swore in her presence. He was obviously losing control of himself, and his hands grasped desperately at her shoulders, hips finally lifting frantically upwards. It was time to give him the release he so richly deserved. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she flattened her tongue against the bottom of her mouth and swallowed as much of him as she could manage, sucking rhythmically as she did. It was a lot of real estate to cover, but the effect was instantaneous. He let out a harsh cry of warning before he began spilling into her mouth. She waited for him to finish twitching before releasing him and swallowing, placing a light kiss on his belly button to let him know she was fine.

They sat there for some moments, her head resting on his lower chest listening to his hammering heartbeat as he played absently with her hair and tried to slow his breathing. He eventually moved to pull his boxers and jeans back on, and she clambered into the driver's seat, adjusting it for her shorter legs. She turned the key and felt the car hum to life. Looking over at him, she saw he was staring out the window at the stars, so she popped the clutch and shifted into gear, pulling back out onto Skyline Drive and steering the car towards the distant lights of the city. It took a few miles to get used to the way the sportscar handled, but she loved the way it responded to her as she picked up some speed and took a series of S-turns that led down out of the mountains.

Lee stirred beside her, turning to watch her drive.

"You're very good at this." he stated, and she wondered what part of the evening he was talking about.

"Thanks. It's a beautiful piece of equipment. I've always wanted to drive it."

"You're welcome to come with me anytime. How about next weekend?"


	8. Chapter 8

Voice Recognition (warning - adult content)

It was Friday evening, and Lee Stetson was spooned against his partner's back, hardly a millimeter between them. In the darkness, he could sense the tension in her body, detect the faint lingering smell of her shampoo and body wash, feel her thin, muscular form curve against his. Sadly, all was not as it seemed. They were squeezed together in a maid's closet, the only hiding place available when the group of suspects they were surveilling returned unexpectedly as he'd been about to pick the lock of their hotel room door. As such, they were both fully clothed; more's the pity. It didn't mitigate the effect of her ass rubbing against him as she shifted uncomfortably in her heels.

"Stop it." he breathed, not daring to whisper.

"I can't help it." she mouthed in return as she moved again and he swallowed a groan.

"Are you packing, Scarecrow?"

"You tell me. Now, shhhhh."

Oh, NOW she wanted to flirt with him. Little Miss We're-On-Assignment-Lee had nixed all of his suggestions for extra-curricular activities that would have made their unexpected trip to Iowa more enjoyable since they arrived the night before. But now, stuck in a closet not more than forty-eight inches from the group of anti-government terrorists they were supposed to be gathering information on, she wanted to indulge in a little frottage. The only rational explanation was that she found the dangerous situation arousing, which frankly shocked him. He wouldn't have pegged her as a thrill-seeker, but then, he wouldn't have pegged her for an insanely gratifying passenger-seat-of-his-Corvette blowjob-giver either, and look how wrong he'd been about that. One of the advantages of being an intelligent, free-thinking individual was that when new facts were presented to you that called a hypothesis into question, you re-evaluated your conclusions and acted accordingly. Or you did, once you were no longer stuck in a broom closet.

The group of men had stopped directly in front of their hiding place and were discussing their plans. There were at least six of them, and Lee focussed on the voice of the leader that he recognized from the wiretap. Amanda sensed his concentration, and helped by keeping perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. After several minutes, the group broke up and the sound of a door opening and closing could be heard, while other voices made their way further down the hallway and eventually faded from hearing. Another few minutes passed without any further noise, and they both relaxed.

"Alright, let's go." he whispered, reaching for the door handle.

"Where to? Do you want to see if we can get into one of the rooms next to Grieves', to see if we can overhear anything?" she asked, mind back on their assignment and off the sensation of Lee's hard body pressed against her ass. Well, mostly back on their assignment.

"No need. I heard everything I needed to just now. They're heading to a farm northeast of here tomorrow to buy a shipment of corn. If I had to guess, I'd say they were going to use it to produce underground explosives by converting it to ethanol. Let's go back to the room and phone this into Billy." he reached around her back possessively and led her down the hallway.

"You overheard that just now? They were all talking at once, I could hardly make out what anyone was saying." she slowed down, looking at him in surprise.

"Voice Recognition 101. Once we've had a bite to eat and I've spoken to Billy, I'll teach you everything I know." his eyes sparkled, promising a lot more than agency-approved training.

An hour later, she walked through the connecting door. Much to Lee's vocal dismay, their work did not require them to share a room, but she had unlocked and propped open the door between their adjacent rooms when they checked in the previous night, and it hadn't been closed since. Unable to stay in bed past 4am, he had leaned against the door frame in the early morning hours, watching her sleep, and wondering when he had become such a sentimentalist.

Now he was sitting propped up in bed, wearing a threadbare baseball t-shirt and pajama pants, surrounded by a mess of papers and looking like a cross between a university professor and a calendar boy. She sat on the bed across from him.

"What did Billy say?" she had been in the shower when Lee had spoken to their boss.

"He agrees with my theory of the home-grown ethanol bomb, so now I'm going through these receipts that he faxed through, trying to figure out what farm they'll be buying from tomorrow. I'd like to get some agents out there first thing tomorrow and intercept them, to make certain they don't get their hands on more bomb-making materials."

"Tell me what you're looking for, and I'll help." she offered, swinging her bare legs onto his bed and reaching for a stack of documents.

They worked in companionable silence for a while, but something about her oversized pajama top was distracting him.

"Hey, that's my old UVA shirt!" he finally realized. He recognized the little hole on the seam of the left shoulder. It was probably for the best she didn't know the circumstances under which it had been ripped.

She smiled guiltily.

"Busted. It got mixed in with my laundry after that case in Baltimore last fall, and, well, I never gave it back."

"You've been wearing my t-shirt to bed since last October?"

"Not every night! Just when I wanted to feel closer to you." she finished quietly.

"You're close to me now." he stated the obvious, unbelievably touched at her admission.

"That's true. I am." And she reached out across the bedspread and grasped his hand before turning her attention back to the papers.

Fifteen minutes later, he grunted.

"Got something?"

"Yeah, maybe. There's this farm near Iowa City with irregularities in their receipts. They've been selling a steady volume of corn, regardless of the spot price. You'd expect to see some variation with the seasons and market rates, but they've been selling the same amount, month in and month out, for the past seven months."

"The same length of time that we think this group has been active."

"Yeah. What about you? See anything?"

"Well, the only way to ship that volume of corn is by rail, and according to this freight manifest, there's a train of grain cars leaving Iowa City for Kentucky tomorrow. Wasn't there a communique a while back about terrorist groups converting old whisky stills to make homemade bomb materials?"

"Amanda, that's brilliant. They buy the grain here in Iowa, then ship it to Kentucky to convert to ethanol. We've got to call Billy."

A short phone call to their supervisor, and Lee rejoined her on the bed, where she was eating the olives he'd removed from his room service Greek salad.

"Billy says to say 'great work Amanda', although I suspect he might have had something else to say if he knew you were lying in my bed, wearing my clothes and eating the leftovers of my dinner."

"I'll never get over the fact that you don't like olives. Squid, yes. Escargot, yes. But olives, no? Does Billy want us to head out to the farm tonight?"

"No, he's going to ask local law enforcement to handle it. Something about me not being believable going undercover as a corn farmer."

"The man has a point."

"Ummm. Are you hungry? I forgot to ask if you wanted anything before you left to shower."

"Nah, I'm fine. We had a late lunch, and I don't have your supercharged metabolism."

"So, what do you say we work on your voice recognition skills?" he reminded her, voice lowering.

She was secretly a bit disappointed. As he'd remarked, she was in his hotel bed, wearing nothing but his t-shirt, and they had finished work for the evening, with nothing to do tomorrow but fly back to DC. She had to admit she'd been counting on something a lot less … practical … than more training. But she had asked him to help her improve as an agent, and maybe he'd taken her earlier insistence that they not mix business with pleasure a bit more literally than she'd intended. What she'd meant was that when there was work to be done, they had a duty to focus on their jobs. Lives could be at stake. But now that they had completed their task, she had no problem making her pleasure his business, and vice versa. If only she could find the words to tell him that.

She watched him as he stood and crossed to the TV set, turning it on and raising the volume. In her experience, tall men weren't graceful, but he was the exception that proved the rule. She loved to watch him move. He returned to the night table, where he turned on the clock radio, twisting the dial until he found some talk radio. By now the room was a cacophony of sound. He approached her side of the bed and knelt down with his hands on her bare knees, bringing his mouth close to her so she could hear him.

"You stay here. I'm going to sit in that chair over there and talk to you. You'll have to close your eyes, so that you can't read my lips. The goal is to make out what I'm saying." he breathed in her ear. When he spoke to her using that tone of voice, he could tell her to light herself on fire, and she would seriously consider complying. Why oh why was he insisting on this training exercise? It was probably retribution for her little act of rebellion in the broom closet earlier.

Lee settled into the chair and she dutifully closed her eyes. At first, she thought she wouldn't hear anything he was saying. The loud noises emanating from the radio and the TV clashed in the small room, confusing and dulling her hearing. But she concentrated on the particular pitch and cadence of his voice, which she would recognize anywhere. Once she'd done that, she could easily make out every word he was saying. Every. Single. Word.

Her breath caught, and a hot flush spread from her chest up her neck towards her face. He was describing exactly what he wanted to do to her, and what he wanted her to do to him, in a low syrupy voice. He wasn't shy, and he wasn't leaving out any of the little details. He had always been a man who wore his sensuality like a second skin.

Leaving the bed, she walked deliberately over and shut the TV off with a quick twist of a knob. The clock radio was similarly silenced. Lee continued his unrelenting erotic monologue as she made her way over to the chair where he was slouching, watching her with hooded eyes and a noticeable bulge in his pajama pants. Lifting his shirt around her hips, she settled onto the chair, spreading her legs to straddle him. His hands immediately came to her waist to direct her down towards his lap, and she leaned forward to crush their mouths together. This kiss was nothing like the sweet kisses they'd shared up until now. If those kisses had been butterflies, this kiss was a hurricane, bringing with it a storm surge of want. He had stoked and banked the flames of her desire for him so many times that an explosion was almost inevitable. There weren't enough ways to bring their bodies into contact.

His strong arms held her tight against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he stood from his seated position and carried her towards the bed while continuing to assault her mouth with his tongue and teeth. He dropped her on the end of the bed where she kneeled and pushed her hands up inside his t-shirt, bunching it towards his shoulders until he broke contact briefly to pull it over his head and toss it sideways. Next she fumbled with the knot of his pajama pants, frantic fingers pulling and tugging until it was loose enough to let them slip over his lean hips. Now that he was mostly naked, Amanda couldn't stop her greedy hands from touching him everywhere: his broad shoulders, muscled flanks, flat nipples. She wanted to read his entire body like braille.

He'd finally broken contact with her mouth, so that he could kiss his way down her throat towards her shoulder. Pulling the neck of his former t-shirt to the side, he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra, and let out a small growl. Letting his hands slip under the oversized top, he palmed her ass, pulling her towards him, then slid upwards to cup her delicate shoulder blades before finally moving under her raised arms to her breasts. Thumbs rubbing against her erect nipples, he felt her shudder and thrust against him and realized that this first time wasn't going to be anything like what he had imagined. He had pictured romance, gentle seduction and then a first coupling filled with soft words and encouragement. What was happening, however, was a lust-fueled physical collision that neither of them was capable of controlling.

Pulling the t-shirt over her head, he bent to suck on her nipples, her hands in his hair and her sharp moans encouraging him as he ran his teeth over her lightly. Needing even more contact between their two bodies, he pushed her backwards by the shoulders so that she fell onto the mattress, scattering papers to the floor, and then crawled over her. Hands and feet and arms and both of them were completely naked, gasping and wild-eyed. He rolled off of Amanda briefly, ignoring her protests, as he reached into his suit jacket inner pocket, pulled out a condom, ripped open the package with his teeth and rolled it on. Climbing back on top of her, he paused for a moment and looked her directly in the eyes.

"Tell me this is what you want." he demanded.

"I've never wanted anything more in my entire life." she responded, reaching down and taking him in her hand, guiding him into her in a single, unbearable movement.

"I can't…. Amanda, I can't make this last." he panted, his hips already thrusting forcefully, losing contact with her mouth in his frenzy to possess her, and biting down on her neck instead.

"Don't try." she gasped, feeling him everywhere in her body, from the soles of her feet to the tips of her hair. She cried out, shocked by the suddenness and the intensity of her orgasm, the whole world ballooning and then contracting down to the single point where their bodies were joined. She forced herself to keep her eyes open, to watch him throw back his head in apparent agony as his thrusts grew erratic, then collapse in slow motion on top of her.

Long minutes passed as they both got control of their breathing. He let his body slide completely off of her, easing out of her as he did. She let out a quiet whimper. He stood, walking silently into the bathroom, where she heard water running and the flush of the toilet. Coming back into the room, he found his boxers in the mess of discarded clothing, passing her his t-shirt as well, although she made no move to put it on. Lying back down beside her, touching only at the shoulders, she heard him take a deep breath.

"God, Amanda, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, exactly?" she murmured, strangely calm in the aftermath of the storm.

"For what? How about for virtually attacking you? For being so rough? For a three year long joke leading up to a thirty second punchline?"

"You think of our partnership as a joke, do you?"

He sighed heavily. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Yes, I know that's not what you mean. What you mean is that everything that just happened, everything that's ever happened between us, has been the direct result of your actions, and your actions alone. That I shouldn't share some responsibility. And that there is absolutely no possibility, not even a tiny chance, that a little bit rough was exactly what I wanted. What I needed."

He propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her, trying to gauge her sincerity. Maybe she was protecting his feelings. Maybe she was trying to preserve their working relationship. Maybe she didn't realize that thirty seconds of penetration was an all-time low point for him. Maybe …

Maybe he should pay attention to what she had just said, instead of being an idiot.

He reached down and gently touched the spot where he'd bitten her neck.

"More than a little bit rough, I'd say. That's going to bruise." he said apologetically.

"Good."

"Good?" he felt like he was having this conversation with Amanda in bizarro-world, where up was down and left was right.

"Yes. That way, every time I look in the mirror for the next week, I'll have a visible reminder of how much you want me. Lee, I'm not going to lie and tell you that what just happened is how I imagined our first time would be. I guess I always figured champagne and low music would be involved. Or perhaps a near-death experience. But I'm happy this is how we finally came together, because it wasn't orchestrated or contrived or driven by fear. It was just us. Just you and me. And it was perfect because of that. Anyway, didn't someone make up some rule about not apologizing for wanting each other?"

He shook his head in wonder. She never ceased to amaze him, with all her contradictions and unexpected insights. He prayed she never would.

"So, when you imagined me seducing you with champagne and music, how long did I last?" he teased, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her swollen lips and sliding a warm hand down her stomach.

"Oh, hours." she purred, hooking her leg over him and pulling him close.

"Well, if at first you don't succeed …"

Much later, utterly sated and exhausted, he felt her extricate herself from his arms.

"Manda? Where you going?" he slurred.

"Shhh, just back to my room to sleep." she explained.

"But I'm not in your room. I'm here." he rationalized. It had been a long night, and eloquent argument was not forthcoming.

"I know. But I remember you once said that the only thing harder than getting a woman into your bed was getting her out of it. I figured you'd want some space."

That was true. He had said that, a million years ago. He remembered the circumstances. He'd met a beautiful woman at a bar (Shannon, maybe?), taken her home and had sex with her. Despite his not-so-subtle hints, she had spent the night, insisting on preparing him breakfast the next morning until his increasingly abrupt behaviour had sent her home in a huff. To underscore his solitary nature, he'd complained about the incident that same morning to Amanda at the office. Trust her to remember.

"Amanda, come back to bed." he said patiently.

She climbed back beside him, curling up on her side as he wrapped an arm over her waist and kissed her shoulder, before letting himself slip back into semi-wakefulness. Maybe tomorrow morning, he would surprise her with room service breakfast in bed.


	9. Chapter 9

Hand-to-Hand Combat (warning - adult content)

Rudy's wasn't the sort of place Lee had ever imagined taking a girlfriend on a date. Not that Amanda was his Girlfriend with a capital "G". They'd never discussed titles or making their relationship official in any traditional way. For the past six months, they had been seeing each other outside of work: sometimes at his place, sometimes at hers, and occasionally somewhere in between. They weren't attempting to hide their relationship from anyone, but neither were they publicizing it. He didn't really see the point. The only two people whose opinions mattered knew exactly where they stood with one another. They were intimate, as frequently as their work and her family life allowed. They were exclusive. They had keys to each other's cars and residences on their respective key rings. She kept a toothbrush, a few pairs of clean underwear and a box of tampons at his apartment. The box of tampons had startled him when he opened his bathroom vanity cabinet one morning to find it there. Lee was thirty-six years old, and he'd never before had a stash of feminine sanitary products in his home. As far as he was concerned, that said all there was to say about the nature of his relationship with Amanda.

If the past six months, or three and half years if he was being honest, had taught him anything, it was never to make assumptions about Amanda. She seemed to delight in crushing them under her tiny round heel. Where he had expected her to be slightly smothering and cautious in a relationship, she was actually at ease with his need for time alone and adventurous, especially in bed. Just because she was dainty didn't mean she was delicate. She astonished him every day with her mental and physical toughness.

Right now, for example, she was giving Rudy a good pounding on his focus mitts, while a number of the regulars looked on. They'd been coming to Rudy's for a few months, since Amanda had asked him how she could improve her upper body strength and hand-to-hand combat skills. At first Lee had sparred with her, but she finally admitted that she held back with him as her sparring partner, so now if he came with her, he worked on the weight machines while Rudy put her through her paces. He could already see her improving, both in technique, and in the increased definition of her deltoid and trapezius muscles.

As he rested after a set of bench presses, he watched her proudly as she worked on her roundhouse kick. He noticed he wasn't her only admirer. Three men were standing beside the ring ropes, speaking in loud voices. Goaded on by his buddies, the biggest goon started to taunt Amanda as she took a breather.

"You're much too pretty to punch, sweatheart. Come over here and let me show you how a real man grapples with a woman."

Lee clenched his jaw and stood up.

"You sure can kick. I can think of lots of things to do with a lady who can spread her legs like that."

Pushed beyond his tolerance, Lee started to stalk towards the ring, ready to defend Amanda's honour with his fists. She glanced his way and shook her head slightly, telling him she could handle it, so he stopped where he was, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

Walking slowly over to the ropes, Amanda crooked her index finger at her would-be admirer, encouraging him to lean in. Once he was bent over, she spoke softly to him. Lee couldn't hear what she said, but he could see the goon's reaction. He blanched and his head shot up, one hand instinctively cupping his groin. He and his buddies quickly found something else to do.

Climbing through the ropes, she smiled at Lee.

"You all finished?"

"Yeah, just finished my last set. Why don't we clean up at my place, and then see what's playing at the local rep cinema?"

"You going to help me wash my hair?" she flirted.

"Count on it." He draped his arm easily over her shoulder, casting one last glance at her heckler to make sure he knew she was leaving with the real man who had brought her.

"What did you say to that guy?" he asked, curious, as they walked outside.

"Oh, nothing much. I was just explaining the various practical uses of a standard issue lockpick set, and how one could be used to enlarge the hole he could stuff his pigeon into."

He barked out a laugh as he opened the passenger door of his car for her to get in.

Lying naked on his back, Lee stroked himself with his left hand while he teased and pleasured her with his right. Looking down at his nimble fingers, she confessed "That's very impressive."

"One of the unsung benefits of being ambidextrous."

"A man of many, many talents." she sighed, rocking against his hand.

They were both warm and damp from his shower, cocooned in the half-light of his bedroom, all thoughts of B films driven from their minds by their need for each other.

Aroused to the point of distraction, he tried to roll her onto her back, but she resisted him.

"No, stay like that. Just lift up your shoulders a bit."

She gathered the pillows that had scattered as they fell into bed, stacking them under his shoulders so that he was half reclining against them. He tried to grab her hips and guide her over him, but she slipped away again, turning her back to him instead and throwing a leg over his hips.

Reverse cowboy? Amanda King, you live to delight me, he thought as he admired the planes of her back. Now where was a full length mirror when you really needed one?

Guiding him into her, she leaned as far back as she could, her head near his shoulder, but all her weight supported on the arms she had braced on either side of his torso.

"Bend your knees a bit." she directed huskily.

The brilliance of her strategy was immediately apparent. His bent knees and the fact that he wasn't supporting her weight gave him ample leverage, and her pelvis was cradled perfectly in his lap, bringing him incredibly deep inside. Meanwhile, his hands were free to roam from her thighs up into her hair and back again. He timed his thrusts to the rhythm of her sighs and quiet moans, twisting and then soothing her sensitive nipples, dragging his fingernails up and down the curves of her waist.

"God, Lee. So good."

"Good? I was trying for a higher grade." he chuckled, amazed at her endurance as the muscles of her arms began to tremble.

"Try harder." she gasped.

"Harder?" he bent his knees further, bucking his hips.

Her only response was non-verbal, and he sensed she was almost there. Whispering erotic shorthand in her ear, he lowered his left hand and pushed down against her pubic bone, knowing she wouldn't come without some kind of manual stimulation. The pressure brought her in contact with his erection and she shouted out her appreciation. He changed the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly as he began to lose himself, hoping to bring her with him, and was rewarded by her primal cry. She arched her back like a nocked bow, shuddering uncontrollably as his movements slowed and then halted. He held her twitching body secure in his arms, gentling her as she came back down. His knees cracked as he extended his legs, and he slipped out of her, followed by a hot rush of fluid. He fought to contain his reaction as she slid to the mattress beside him and rested her head over his pounding heart.

"We should probably talk about that." she finally brought up in a throaty whisper.

"Yeah. I don't know what came over me. I've never forgotten before."

"You don't know who came over you, do you?" she teased and his hand tapped her ass in retaliation.

"As I remember it, we were both pretty culpable, Lee." she continued in a more serious vein.

"I'm on the pill." "I have a clean bill of health from Dr. Geoffreys." they said at the same time.

"You first." he offered.

"Well, I just wanted you to know that I'm on the pill. I have been for the past three months, since just after Iowa. So there's very little chance I could get pregnant." she explained.

"And I need you to know that when I went in for my annual physical back in March, I had Dr. Geoffreys run a full set of tests. To make certain I wasn't … I didn't have …" he didn't know how to finish his sentence without opening a whole can of worms about his sex life before Amanda, but she took pity on him.

"I wish I'd been a fly on the wall for THAT conversation. Not only did you actually show up for your annual physical, but you requested additional testing. Dr. Geoffreys' must have thought you were delirious." she laughed.

"Well, he thinks I'm something, alright."

"So, we're okay? No need to panic about any Baby Spies." she confirmed.

He hummed, shifting his body to curl behind her and stroking her bare arm and shoulder contemplatively.

She thought he was dozing, and was about to head to the bathroom to clean up, when his voice surprised her.

"You know what we should do?"

"Hmm?"

"Take the boys out to see a movie tomorrow night."


	10. Chapter 10

Pain Tolerance (warning - adult content)

Standing in her firing stance, Amanda scanned the crowd, trying to make out the shooter. Suddenly, off to her right, the front door to a store swung open and a dark-skinned man with an AK-47 opened fire. Pivoting and aiming instinctively, she fired three quick shots, taking down the shooter with the first and second.

The film froze there, and Leatherneck approached her.

"Great work, Amanda. Your reaction time is definitely improving. He might have winged you with one of those bullets, but you saved the lives of those innocent people."

"Thanks, Leatherneck. Is it possible to bring him down without getting winged?"

"With an automatic weapon, it really comes down to a matter of luck, not skill. The triggers are so sensitive that a dead man, or woman, can get off twenty rounds before they hit the ground. The good news is that those shots won't be aimed at anything in particular. The bad news is there are still twenty bullets flying through the air. Odds are they are going to hit something, or someone."

Sighing, Amanda turned off the firing range electronic weapon.

"Thanks, Leatherneck. Same time next week?"

"Sure thing, Amanda."

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"Lee, how many times have you been shot?"

They were at his apartment, stretched out on opposite ends of his sofa, each reading a book, legs intertwined.

"Uhhhh, seven. No wait, eight, if you count the friendly fire incident in Morocco. Why, did you want to play connect the dots with my scars? 'cause that might be fun." he joked, sliding his foot up her calf suggestively.

She sighed heavily.

"Amanda? What is it?"

"I don't know. Just something Leatherneck said at the firing range today. I brought down the shooter, but he mentioned that I might have been winged by a bullet anyway, and it got me thinking about how being shot is almost inevitable in our line of work, and how I would deal with it if, or rather when, I was."

"How would you deal with it? Hopefully, by going to the hospital and getting patched up." he didn't like the bent of this conversation at all, but he could tell she was upset, so he forced himself to let her talk it out.

"But … what if you needed me? What if other people's lives were still in danger? I mean, how badly does it hurt? Are we talking can't think for the pain, or just extreme discomfort?"

"Well, I guess that depends on two things: where you've been shot, and how you handle it. You've been there when I've been shot more than once. One bullet went clean through my thigh, but I was still able to finish the assignment before you so kindly bandaged me up. That one didn't hurt any more than a bad muscle tear. But I've had bullets barely graze my scalp and then nearly passed out from the blood loss."

"Alright, so that's the where. What about the how?" she pursued.

"Well, there are techniques to fool your mind regarding the pain, to help keep you focused and safe. They teach them in the Agency recruitment courses."

He knew what her next words would be, and dreaded them.

"Lee, I need you to teach me those techniques."

"Amanda … I …. I honestly don't know if I can. I just … I can't stand to see you hurt, you know?" he tried to reason with her.

"Isn't it better to see me in pain here, in the safety of our home where you can help me, instead of out in the field, where my inability to cope might result in further injury to me. Or to you."

"Why do you have to be so damn rational?" he smiled sadly.

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Lee held the thumbtack in the candle flame, sterilizing it. The room was otherwise dark, and Amanda sat next to him, listening intently.

"Another technique is to have a mantra – something you repeat over and over to quiet your mind. I remember the one they taught in class was 'I am not in pain, the pain is in me'. A bit Buddhist for the federal government, if you ask me, but it gives you an idea." he tried half-heartedly to joke.

"What was yours?" she asked.

He hesitated.

"Lee?"

"The things that keep me alone, keep me alive. The things that keep me alive, keep me alone." he said quietly, staring at the candle.

She looked at him softly, wondering for the millionth time how such a compassionate, caring man had emerged from the psychological warzone that had been most of his life. His heart was a lot like a broken bone that had been left to set poorly. He'd learned to compensate for the original injury, but it had left him emotionally handicapped, until he'd found the courage to risk breaking it all over again, just so that he could mend properly.

"Time for a new mantra." she stated, leaning her head against his shoulder, and he nodded.

"Look, I'm going to go for a run, alright. I don't think I can stay and watch, and I'd be a distraction in any event. But I won't go far. I'll just do a few loops of our usual two mile route."

He quickly got dressed and headed for the door. Looking back, the candle cast a halo of light on her features as she contemplated the thumbtack, and he caught his breath. She was no angel, but she was the closest thing he had on this earth to a saviour, and he needed suddenly to let her know.

"Amanda?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you." And then he walked out his front door.

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The cold, moist November air had chilled his skin, although he hadn't noticed while he was still running. Forty minutes had passed since he left Amanda in his apartment, and he'd just finished his second loop. He'd explained to Amanda that the pain stimulus exercise used by the Agency only lasted ten minutes, so it should be safe to head back now.

Amanda hadn't moved from her spot on the sofa. She was staring at the candle flame and didn't acknowledge him as he entered the apartment and stripped off his running shoes and fleece jacket.

"Amanda." he said quietly. "Amanda!"

She looked up at him, and he saw her eyes were glistening.

"How did it go?" he asked softly.

She held her left hand out to him, and he thought she wanted him to hold it until he caught sight of the thumbtack, still buried in the pad of her thumb.

"Amanda! Get that thing out of you. I've been gone for over forty minutes!" he cradled her small hand in his gently, trying to decide whether he dared remove the tack himself.

"It's okay, Lee. It doesn't hurt anymore." She reached down and eased the thumbtack from her flesh without so much as a flinch, and he felt bile rise in his throat. He raced to his medicine cabinet and grabbed an alcohol swab and a Bandaid, returning to find her staring at the droplet of blood that had risen from her thumb.

He cradled her hand in his larger one and brought her thumb to his mouth, sucking the blood away before wiping her whole hand with alcohol and applying the Bandaid. The intimacy of the gesture seemed to bring her out of her trance, and she shivered violently.

"Lee, I'm really cold all of a sudden."

"You're in shock. Your central nervous system is overwhelmed by the flood of hormones that it released to respond to the pain, and it's playing havoc with your ability to regulate your body temperature, amongst other things." he explained.

"What does Dr. Stetson prescribe?"

"A hot bath. Come here."

He led her towards the bathroom. Turning the taps on high, he helped her undress, holding her steady as she tried to balance on one foot to remove her nylons and underwear. He tugged off his own clothes as well, and then helped her step into the tub, turning off the taps and easing into the hot water, cradling her between his long legs with her back against his chest. He took the washcloth and dipped it into the water before running it over her shoulders and upper chest, trying to warm her.

"Mmmmmm, that's nice. Everything feels so … more. Like a mild acid trip."

"Synesthesia. It's a side effect of all the estrogen and cortisol you've got buzzing around in your body. Wait, you've done acid? " he looked at her askance, wondering how many more little secrets she was carrying around.

"Oh, like you were a choirboy during the 1960s." she retorted, and he wisely let the matter drop.

"Why haven't we had a bath together before now?" she asked as he discarded the washcloth and continued to pour water over her with his cupped hands.

"I'm not much of a bath guy, although I'll make an exception in this case." he smiled.

"That's very self-sacrificing of you, thank you." she teased. She was sounding more like her usual self, and the knot of anxiety in his stomach slowly relaxed, only to be replaced by a knot of desire as she began to push herself back against him rhythmically.

"Amanda..."

She tipped her chin back and he claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless. She turned in the water to face him, hooking her legs behind his back. Reaching between them, he grasped himself and eased into her body slowly, pulling down on her hips until their pubic bones met.

"Go slow." she implored, and he realized that not ten minutes ago, she had been shaking in his arms for a far less pleasant reason. He looked into her eyes, trying to decide if he was taking advantage of her hyper-aware nervous system.

"I'm fine. I'm just worried about the bath water overflowing." she explained.

"We can't have that." he agreed with mock seriousness, and then gasped as she made minute movements with her internal muscles that he'd never felt before.

"Sit still, Scarecrow. Let me drive." she ordered as she began a subtle shifting of her body against his.

Whispering in his ear, she told him how much she wanted him, needed him, admired him, and accepted him. Trying to erase the deficit of a lifetime the only way she knew how. His response was to hold her even tighter, seeking a way to disappear inside her completely.

Soon enough, her breathing grew choppy and her vocalization explicit. She told him how it felt to have him so deeply inside her that her heart felt full. How his body, the mere thought of it, made her wet. How his hands electrified her and his voice turned her on, even when he was arguing with her. And then she told him her greatest secret. That you could take away all those things, and she would still be hopelessly in love with him because of his brilliant mind, his noble soul and his survivor's heart.

She leaned back slightly and kissed the dampness from his eyes, holding his gaze and she came apart and then together again in his arms, coaxing him until he followed her.

Lee carried Amanda into the bedroom and lay her out on their bed. Taking the towel he'd grabbed on the way out the bathroom, he began to gently dry her, rubbing her skin until it was rosy.

"Roll over" he directed, and proceeded to dry her back as well. As the towel passed between her legs, he heard her moan into the pillows.

"Lift up your hips, Amanda." he requested. Once she had complied, he lay on his back underneath her, reaching up to gently part and place a kiss against her.

"OoooooO." was her only response, so he opened his mouth and applied it to her centre, sucking rhythmically and with steadily increasing pressure. Her hips immediately started to rock to the same rhythm, and he added circling sweeps of his tongue. She still tasted faintly like him, but soon her familiar aroma predominated as he brought her closer to orgasm. Like a cross between saltwater taffy and a Meyer lemon.

"God, Lee, you're going to make me come again. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

He hummed his agreement, and crossed his middle and index fingers like he was about to tell a lie, but instead slid them inside her with a twist of his wrist. Her hips froze as she let out a strangled cry of release, and then she pulsed against his tongue for long moments before stilling.

He was out from underneath her and lifting her over onto her back before the shivers of her orgasm had abated. He slipped inside her again easily, and began to pump hard. She pulled her legs back, completely unguarded and open, while urging him on with her voice. It was only a matter of minutes before he let out a long groan.

Afterwards, Amanda's head lay on his shoulder as she drew patterns on his chest with her fingernails. His hand reached out and stopped her movements.

"Amanda, I'm a thirty-six year old man. Have pity."

She chuckled softly, but stilled her hand, allowing herself a soft kiss directly over his heart before settling in to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Sensory Deprivation (warning - adult content)

The cabin lights had been dimmed for take-off, and the crew were circulating with blankets, pillows and eyeshades in first class. Using his most beguiling smile, Lee asked the stewardess for two blankets and single pillow. She came back with a third blanket.

"Lee, I know that it's second nature, but do you really have to flirt with every airline employee you come into contact with?" she teased.

"Flirting with the desk agent got us upgraded to first class, and flirting with …. Amy … there is going to get us quick drink refills and lots of privacy once we're at cruising altitude." he countered, handing her two of the blankets and tucking the pillow behind his head.

Amanda shook her head, convinced that Lee flirted for much the same reason Mallory wanted to conquer Everest, but in much too good a mood to quibble. They were on an overnight flight from Washington to Brussels, where Lee would be serving as the Agency's delegate to a three-day NATO conference on global anti-terrorism measures. For reasons she couldn't quite fathom, Billy had insisted that she accompany her partner. To keep him out of trouble, he said. She was impressed with Billy's ability to keep a straight face, given that Lee was more than capable of finding trouble with or without her in tow. She sensed there were ulterior motives at work, but was too relieved to be going on vacation with Lee to look that particular gift horse in the mouth.

Lifting the arm rest between their two seats, Amanda fit herself against his side, letting out a happy sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder. It had been a long and stressful winter. Their case load had been heavy; her boys were both teenagers, with all the angst and covert parenting that entailed; and her mother was spending more and more time with her boyfriend, leaving Amanda and Lee juggling schedules to figure out who was able to drive Jamie to band practice, and who would be home to make certain Philip wasn't entertaining his latest girlfriend unsupervised. It had made carving out time for the two of them incredibly difficult, so this trip together was a welcome relief. Lee was excited to show her Brussels, one of his favourite places, and assured her there would be plenty of time between his official duties to explore, eat their body weight in French fries, and make up for lost time in … backgammon.

Amy heeded the siren call of Lee's dimple and returned with a second glass of white wine for Amanda, and a finger of top shelf scotch for him. As predicted, she then left them alone, and Amanda was in a light doze when the captain's deep, smooth voice suddenly intruded.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We've reached our cruising altitude of 42,000 feet and are currently 200 nautical miles northeast of Provincetown, Massachusetts. I've filed a flight plan that should see us landing at Brussels National at approximately 9:25am local time. There are no reports of rough air on the trans-Atlantic routes tonight, so please get comfortable and enjoy the flight. On behalf of my second officer and the entire flight crew, thank you for choosing TransWorld Airlines."

Next to him, Lee felt Amanda shift and nuzzle against his neck. Turning to his left, he dipped to give her a gentle kiss, but was surprised when she immediately deepened it, running her tongue against his lips so that he reflexively opened his mouth to her. She hummed her approval, and he felt her small strong hand massaging his thigh under the thin airline blanket, making its way north until …

"Woah! Amanda, unless you have plans to join the mile-high club, I think we better cool our jets, so to speak. When I said Amy would give us some privacy, I didn't mean that level of privacy."

"Sorry." she said, managing not to sound sorry at all, and moving her hand a fraction away from a crisis situation.

"What's gotten into you? I know it's been a while, but I was hoping we could make it another nine hours or so without getting arrested for lewd public behaviour."

"It's nothing. I just miss … you."

"Nice try. Come on, I've told you all my naughty secrets." he wheedled.

"I highly doubt you've told me ten percent of your naughty secrets, Lee." she laughed, trying to divert his attention.

"Amanda …"

"Really, it's nothing. I just … I find the whole idea of placing my safety in the hands of someone I cannot see … exciting. I mean, we don't even know the pilot, but here we are sitting comfortably in our seats, let him fly us eight miles into the atmosphere in a giant tin can over a vast ocean." she tried to explain.

"Some of us are sitting less comfortably than others." he said, looking pointedly downwards.

"Yeah, again, sorry about that."

"S'alright. You can make it up to me later, at the hotel." he winked.

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Early the next morning, Lee prepared to leave for his first NATO special session. Amanda was still asleep, splayed out on her stomach and snoring delicately. It was justified slumber. They hadn't left the hotel room for the past twenty-four hours, but little of that time had been spent sleeping. The door had barely swung closed behind the bell hop when he had her pinned against the nearest flat surface, which happened to be the hotel room desk. Sustained by room service and weeks of pent-up passion, they had then continued to make up for lost time in the shower, bent over the bathroom sink, and finally, just to be traditional, in bed. Twice. He felt like collapsing beside her, but then again, it might be a good idea to get out of the hotel room while they could both still walk. He bent to kiss her temple lightly and left a note on the pillow next to her. Casting one last loving glance her way, he straightened his tie in the mirror and walked out the door.

It was nearly ten thirty when Amanda finally stirred. Eyeballing the alarm clock blearily, she stretched like a cat and reached out towards Lee's pillow, hand finding his note.

"Didn't have the heart to wake you. I'll be finished by four o'clock, and thought we could walk around the old town before finding a nice place to eat tonight. Enjoy Brussels. I love you."

Smiling, Amanda made her way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for a day of casual sightseeing. She'd never been to Brussels, but felt like she already loved the place, because of Lee's fond memories of his trips here. He'd mentioned his favourite haunts to her yesterday, in case she wanted to check them out, but she preferred exploring the city in her own way, which involved wandering the streets without a map and making serendipitous discoveries. It was a pleasant way to spend the day, while her lover was off making the world safer for democracy.

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Waiting in the hotel lobby bar later that afternoon, she spotted Lee coming back from his meetings. He looked incredibly handsome and very debonair in a dove grey three piece suit, a teal tie and his brogues, carrying an attaché case. She noticed quite a few women and the occasional man turning to watch him pass, but he seemed oblivious to the attention he was attracting. His eyes lit up as he approached, bending to kiss her before whispering in her ear.

"Give me five minutes to drop off my things and change into something a bit less formal, and then I'm all yours."

Watching him make his way to the elevators, she smiled a private smile. That's right, lobby ladies. He's all mine.

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Walking hand in hand in the Place Sainte-Catherine, Lee filled Amanda in on his day. She hadn't fully appreciated the significance of the meetings or his role in them, and she listened proudly as he described an exchange he'd had with a representative from the Canadian government.

"You're a natural diplomat." she commented, as he finished his account.

"Finally, a legitimate application for my charm and powers of persuasion." he grinned boyishly.

"What does that make me? The illegitimate application?" she joked.

"No, you're more like the unforeseen benefit. Look, we should get going if we want to keep our reservations."

"Reservations? I thought we were just going to find a likely restaurant?" she queried, confused.

"Ummm, no. I made reservations at a little French place." he seemed a bit flustered.

"Oh, okay. Lead the way, then."

It began drizzling lightly, and the cobblestones of old Brussels glistened in the streetlights. The rain and the fact that it was early March meant that there were few people about, and it felt like they had all the surrounding beauty to themselves. Pausing beside a fountain, he pointed out the statue of three blind men at the top to Amanda.

"L'abreuvoir des aveugles. The drinking fountain of the blind. Renaissance burghers used to come here to get their potable water. The sculpture is actually based on an even older work, The Blind Leading the Blind, by Brueghel, a local son. " he explained. Wondering at her silence, he looked down and caught his breath. Droplets of water clung to her upswept hair and eyelashes, and the brisk air had reddened her cheeks. She was ethereal, but it was the look in her eyes that made his heart beat faster.

"I love you, Lee."

He kissed her delicately, then led her down a narrow side street in the shadow of Saint Nicholas Church, to a tiny restaurant with only five tables, where they feasted on Michelin starred cuisine and shared a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape, talking in low voices about past adventures and future dreams.

Arriving back at their hotel room, Amanda was still feeling the warming glow of the wine and time spent romancing with Lee. She reached for the bedside lamp, but Lee's hand stilled her.

"No, leave it off." he murmured. "Amanda, I have a confession to make."

Her heart flipped. She had no idea what he could possibly have to say to her that warranted the cover of darkness.

"I didn't just make the reservations at that restaurant today." he began.

"Yeah, I sort of figured. A place like that is booked weeks in advance."

He sighed. "The pitfalls of dating another agent. You don't miss much."

"You didn't flirt your way into first class either, while we're at it. You're good, but you're not that good. So, why the subterfuge?" she queried.

"Well …. I guess I should go back to the beginning. Three months ago, Billy approached me about becoming the official liaison between the Agency and NATO. Not just at this conference, but as a permanent job."

She gasped.

"I said no, Amanda. I didn't want to break up our partnership. But Billy was persistent, so I finally agreed to attend this one conference, on the condition that you come along with me. That's when I made the restaurant reservations, and upgraded the airline tickets the Agency had purchased for us."

"Oh. Okay. But why keep it a secret?"

"I wanted to surprise you, I guess. And … I suppose a part of me started to seriously reconsider the job offer. I can't be a field agent forever, Amanda. Neither of us can. Eventually our aging bodies are going to betray us, and I want us both out before that day comes. But you know me. I'm not well suited to pencil pushing. This NATO job would give me the opportunity to travel, to interact with other intelligence operatives, but without getting shot at on a regular basis. So I thought if I brought you here, and I enjoyed the work, and you liked Brussels, well, we could talk. So, I guess this is me, asking you if you like Brussels, because I know, after today, that I would enjoy the work. More importantly, I think I could make a real difference."

She was quiet, absorbing his words.

"Amanda? Are you okay? Is this okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"I was just thinking, this is the second time that the man I'm in love with has wanted to pack up and move overseas away from me to answer a higher calling." She sounded stung, and he flinched at her words.

"Hold on. I'm not packing up and moving anywhere. I'm not Joe. We're having this conversation because this is our decision to make together. If we decide that it isn't right for you or the boys, then I won't take the job." She could hear him pacing across the carpet, while she sat in the dark on the bed, knees pulled up toward her chin.

"Alright, tell me how it would work, then. Tell me how this wouldn't end up with me back in Arlington, raising Phillip and Jamie alone and waiting for your late night phone calls." A bitter lump rose in her throat, as she remembered many such nights when the boys were young.

"Well, first of all, most of the time I would be working in Washington. I'd only come to Brussels for the regular and special sessions, which happen once a month. And you'd always be welcome to come with me. Part of the job offer is use of a small apartment here in town."

"What about the boys? I can't very well just leave them on their own in Washington." she countered.

"Well, we could work out a schedule with Joe; let him do some actual parenting for a change." he stated bitterly.

"Lee …." she warned. This was a sensitive subject between the two of them.

"And, it's not like the boys are little anymore, Amanda. Next year, Philip will have his driver's license, god help us all, and two years after that he'll start college, with Jamie a couple years behind him. This isn't a decision we make just for today, this is a decision we need to make for the rest of our lives."

Something about his tone made her unfurl and walk towards him where he stood near the full height window. She placed a hand on his lower back, feeling the tension coursing through him.

"I'm sorry, Lee. You're right. I just … it felt like Joe leaving for Estocia all over again. I love Brussels so far, and I know how amazing you would be in this role. It's an incredible opportunity. And you're right about the boys too. I forget, sometimes, just how grown up they're getting. In my mind, they are still my babies and totally dependent on me."

"That's a mother's prerogative. So, are you saying you'd consider it? If we could find a way to make it work?"

"Of course I'd consider it. But what about me? I don't want another partner. Would I work on my own, like you did when we met?"

"That's something that you'd have to discuss with Billy. But I'd be shocked if he hadn't already thought about it and had something in mind for you. He knows neither of us would work well with a new partner. Plus, I'm pretty certain I'm the only one who'd put up with you."

She elbowed him in the stomach, and he chuckled.

"In all seriousness, Amanda, getting both of us out of the field is a really compelling part of this opportunity. Eventually, our luck is going to run out, and I want us long gone before that happens."

He paused, considering whether to mention another thought that crossed his mind more and more lately. No point in stopping now, he figured. He'd already more or less told her that when he thought about their future, he thought in terms of the rest of their lives.

"There's something else, Amanda." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing his hands low on her belly. Taking a deep breath, he soldiered forward. "I know we haven't really spoken about it, but if we were out of the field, there'd be no reason … I mean … we could talk about trying …" he ran out of courage.

She turned in his arms, and even in the faint light, he could see her eyes were damp.

"Lee …" her voice filled with wonder.

"Just more for us to consider, I guess." he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Nothing needs to be decided today. Billy wants me to give him an answer about the NATO job once we're back in DC."

"Well, you sure know how to give a girl a lot to think about. You becoming a diplomat. Me leaving the field. Setting up a second home in Brussels. Considering trying to have a …. baby." Her voice hung on the last word.

"Have you ever? Thought about having my child?" he whispered.

"Oh, Lee…. Of course. I just … I didn't know if it was something you'd want. Your own childhood was so traumatic, I thought that might have turned you off the idea of parenthood entirely."

"I already am a parent, Amanda. Philip and Jamie are my boys, regardless of their paternity. That was just the deal, when I fell in love with you."

"You're right. They are. And you're wonderful with them. Just as you would be if … we had a child of our own." she whispered in a hush, as though afraid to scare the idea away by speaking of it too loudly.

He bent his head and kissed her passionately, trying to convey with his body what he couldn't find words for with his mind. Taking her hand, he led her back towards the bed.

The next day, Lee's session ended at noon, but he said he had an errand to run afterwards. They agreed to meet at the Magritte Museum at 3pm. It was raining harder than the day before, so she borrowed an umbrella from the concierge and set out on foot towards the Royal Museums, where she spent the day surrounded by beautiful art. Shortly before three, she ventured out into the spring weather to meet Lee just across the street at the Magritte. He was already standing out front, the shoulders of his camel trench coat showing signs of a long walk in the rain. She handed him her umbrella, and he held it over both of them and kissed her for a long while.

"Come on, Lee. Let's get out of this cold rain." she finally suggested.

"Oh, is it raining? I hadn't noticed." he grinned.

Inside, he coat-checked his trench coat and attaché case and she realized he was still wearing his business suit from the morning's session.

"You haven't been back to the hotel. What kind of errand was this, exactly?" she asked suspiciously.

"Wouldn't you like to know." he smirked, ignoring her annoyed glance.

They made their way around the exhibit halls together. Amanda stopped in front of a small painting, scrutinizing it closely.

"The Lovers. Interesting. Remind you of someone?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes, but continued to contemplate the painting. Two figures, a man and a woman, were kissing each other passionately. The faces of each were covered in white cloth, obscuring them from the observer, and each other. Lee watched her, a wicked grin on his lips.

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They ate supper in the hotel restaurant, sheltering from the weather. Afterwards, Lee suggested they head to the lobby bar for an after-dinner drink, and although she had expected that they would go directly to their room after their meal, she relished the opportunity to simply sit with Lee, listening to a jazz trio and sipping her first Drambuie. Together with the two glasses of wine she'd had with supper, the digestif was making her feel pleasantly foggy and a bit risqué. Noticing a few of Lee's admirers from his saunter through the lobby yesterday, Amanda slid her lounge chair closer to their table and, letting her shoe drop, ran her foot up the inside of his pant leg. Lee watched her over the rim of his snifter of brandy, wondering where she was going with this latest public display of affection. Satisfied she had his attention, she leaned her elbows on the table and reached for the knot of his tie, loosening it slightly, then unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt.

"Instead of undressing me, you could always just stamp "Reserved for Amanda King" across my forehead. It violates fewer public decency laws." he spoke in a low voice.

"What are you talking about?" she tried to deflect his perceptive remark.

"I'm talking about ownership. About wanting to mark your territory. I know what you're doing. Believe me, I feel exactly the same way."

"I don't own you, Lee. No more than you own me." she said defensively.

"Not like property, certainly. We're both far too independent and stubborn for that. But my attention; my respect; my desire; my heart. Those are all yours in perpetuity." he stated simply, as though it was a law of nature.

"I think you need to take me upstairs. Right now." she whispered.

He threw twenty francs on the table, took a final sip of his half-finished brandy, and rose with her, wrapping his arm firmly around her waist.

Back in their room, he took her in his arms and kissed her until she trembled. She had pushed his suit jacket off and was trying to unbutton his vest with shaky fingers. He stilled them, then took over, slowly removing his shoulder holster, unbuttoning his dress shirt, unknotting his tie, flicking open his belt and unzipping his pants. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching his subtle strip tease with eyes glassy from arousal and wine. When he was finally naked, except for his tie, which remained draped around his neck, he reached for her hand and guided her to stand in front of him. Kissing her neck, his hands found the zipper at the back of her dress and lowered it, stepping back to slide the material off her shoulders and letting it drop to the ground. His eyes darkened and he drew a deep breath as he took her in. She was wearing thigh high stockings and a black lace bodysuit, standing still under his scrutiny like a woman who was confident she was every fantasy he'd ever had come to life.

"You've been wearing that under your dress all day." It was a statement, not a question, but she nodded anyway.

"I want you to do something for me." he murmured.

"Anything."

He slowly pulled his tie from where it hung around his neck, and her eyes widened.

"I want you to let me tie this around your eyes. So you can't see."

The air whooshed out of her. "Like in the painting?"

Of course, she made the connection immediately. "Yes. And like in the plane, as well."

They had experimented in bed before, but never anything like this. It was far beyond her range of experience. But she knew that Lee had considered all of that before asking her, and she could feel her heart beating faster at the idea. Without sight, every other sense would be heightened …

She nodded, knowing that there were no limits to the trust she placed in him.

With her consent secured, Lee approached her and kissed her hungrily. He raised his silk tie to her face, placing the widest part across her eyes, then wrapping it around her head, tucking the end securely in place behind her ear.

"Can you see me?" he asked huskily.

"No." she whispered.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Can you feel me?" as he ran a careless finger down her neck, over her collarbone, and then lightly grazing her erect nipple through the lace.

"Yes." she whimpered.

"You know you can stop this anytime, right? Just tell me, and I'll take it off." he wanted to make certain she understood completely.

"I don't want you to stop."

Unable to wait any longer, he stepped into her arms and began to kiss her, softly at first, then with increasing insistence. Deprived of sight, she relied on her hands and her ears to know where he was and what he wanted and needed from her. They fell backwards onto the bed, and she reached to remove her stockings.

"No, leave them." he instructed. He reached between her legs and unsnapped the crotch of her lingerie before caressing her. She moaned softly, squirming so that every brush of his fingers hit her exactly where she was most sensitive. She reached out blindly for his body, making contact with his firm chest and then moving her hand downward until she grasped his erection. He needed no further stimulation, but she slid her hand up and down in time to the movements of his fingers, until he was panting as hard as she was.

"Amanda." he sounded like he was begging, and perhaps he was.

"Enough, Lee. I need you inside me."

"Kneel facing the headboard." he answered, and she moved immediately to comply, sensing that the wait was almost over. She heard the rustle of the sheets, felt the mattress dip under his weight just behind and in between her knees. For a moment, there was no contact between their bodies, and she tensed, trying to guess what would happen next. Then she felt him slide his erection between the cheeks of her ass, past her entrance, and forward. She hissed, and arched her back like a cat, trying to follow the sensation, but it was gone. Another unbearable moment of no contact, then he repeated the gesture, and she pushed herself backwards, trying to encourage him to enter her. He pulled away again, and she half-moaned, half-growled.

"Lee."

"Yes?"

"Please."

"Please what?" he tormented her.

"Lee…." she sounded so desperate, but she was beyond the point of caring. He allowed his tip to enter her just slightly, and then pulled away again, and she let out a cry of frustration.

"Say it." he hissed, and she knew exactly what he wanted from her.

"F- me." The last word had barely left her mouth before his hands were on her hips and he was inside her, knocking the breath out of her as she opened her mouth to moan. He had used up all of his restraint, and had only just enough control left to keep his fingers from bruising her. He released her left hip and reached underneath her, knowing that she'd need his help if she was going to join him in the release that he was now hurtling towards. She surprised him by pushing his hand away, reaching down herself instead. As she touched herself, she gasped and reared her body upward, bracing her weight against the headboard with her left arm as their bodies came together harder and faster. He instinctively brought his hands up to hold her breasts through the cups of her bodysuit, tugging at both nipples with thumb and forefinger through the lace. She opened her mouth to wail, but no sound came out. Feeling her start to come, Lee wrapped his arms across her chest, and curled over her shaking body, pulling down on her shoulders as he gasped into her hair and felt something at the base of his spine let go like a slingshot.

They lay tangled on the mattress afterwards, sweaty and sticky, each unwilling to be the first one to move. She could tell he was thinking about something important, and smiled when she realized she knew him so well that she could tell what he was thinking, even blindfolded. Finally, she felt him kiss her shoulder blade and roll away. She made no move to take off his tie, sensing the lesson in trust wasn't over quite yet. She heard his feet pad across the carpet, and the snick of his attaché case being unlocked and opened. He then made his way to the bathroom, running the water, and finally came back to bed, where he wiped tenderly between her legs with a warm washcloth, in stark contrast to his actions just a few moments before. The back of her throat tightened, and her whole body felt utterly full to overflowing with love for this contradictory man.

He lay on the bed in front of her, and finally reached to remove her blindfold. Her sight was blurry, and the first thing to come into focus was his dear face, looking at her lovingly, but with an unusual air of trepidation. The next thing she saw was the small black velvet box embossed Geretti - Antwerpen, resting open on his palm between them, and then all she could see were the facets of light reflected through her tears as he whispered, "marry me?"


	12. Chapter 12

Sleep Deprivation (warning - adult content)

Amy glanced nervously at the passenger in Seat 5A again. The anxious tension was coming off of him in waves, and she had already seen the barely perceptible outline of his gun holster along his left flank when he'd first entered the cabin. Law enforcement or not, she did not feel entirely comfortable with a man in his frame of mind carrying a weapon on her airplane.

Of course, she recognized him. Nearly a year had passed since he'd been on her Washington to Brussels redeye, but it would take a lot longer than that to forget such a strikingly handsome man. On that flight, he'd been travelling with a woman. His lover, she'd quickly deduced, based on the familiar intimacy between them and the absence of wedding rings. Today, he was travelling alone from Brussels back to Washington, and three hours into the flight, he still hadn't relaxed enough to unbutton his suit jacket. What he had done was read the same two pieces of paper continuously, as though he expected some new information to appear from between the few scant lines of text. When his left hand wasn't occupied raking through his thick brown hair, he unconsciously spun a simple platinum wedding band around his ring finger.

"Sir, the flight will go by much faster if you try to get some sleep." Amy tried. Hazel eyes fixed suddenly on hers, and she held her breath, wondering why she hadn't just left well enough alone. He looked like a cornered animal, ready to lash out at the first provocation.

"Would you like a pillow and blanket? Perhaps some … scotch, to help you relax?" she combed her memory for what he had taken on their last flight together.

"No." and then "Thank you, anyway." almost as an afterthought.

Amy was about to admit defeat, and leave him to his obvious misery, when she caught a glimpse of the paper he held in his hand. It contained a black and white photo of the same woman who had flown with him previously. His lover. And now, presumably, his wife, given his level of distress and the nervous tick with his wedding band.

Looking back, she could never understand what possessed her, but the next words out of her mouth were "She's going to be okay. She loves you very much, and she's going to be okay."

His eyes locked with hers again, and she detected a faint sheen of tears as he whispered, "God, I sure as hell hope you're right."

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Amanda Stetson was an excellent trainee supervisor. Every three months, another group of Agency rookies were sent her way, and it was her job to help them adjust to the day-to-day realities of working as a government operative. She was part drill sergeant, part den-mother and part psychologist. Billy Melrose felt an immense sense of pride as he watched Amanda explain some of the practicalities of undercover operations to her latest group of students. As he suspected, she had taken to the role like a duck to water, and the agents graduating from her care were more alert, more confident, and a lot less likely to flame out during their first difficult operation. It helped alleviate some of his guilt at persuading Lee to take the NATO liaison job and consequently breaking up their partnership. Never one to follow blindly where he was led, Lee had returned from Brussels last year to inform Billy that he would accept the NATO job offer, but that he and Amanda had found an alternative way to remain partners, as they were getting married. Billy smiled fondly as he remembered that day and approached Amanda.

"Who are you putting in the field tomorrow, Amanda? This is going to be a delicate operation, so I need your best."

"Yes sir. I'm going to have Smythe, Goldman and Tessoni work as the news team, with Fletcher calling the strike from the news van."

"Alright. I don't have to tell you how important it is that we get this one right. Addi Birol has been number one on our terrorist most-wanted list for over a year, and this could be our best chance to finally bring him down."

"I understand, sir. The five of us are staying tonight to go over the plan for the interview and contingencies. They'll be ready."

"Very good, Amanda. By the way, have you heard from Lee? He was going to call me once his session broke out today to let me know the outcome of the counter-terrorism funding vote."

"We spoke last night, sir. He seemed confident that his efforts, combined with those of some others in the intelligence community, would be successful and that the funding would get approved." Amanda blushed slightly, remembering the decidedly non-business tone that the remainder of their phone conversation had taken. She didn't like it when she couldn't accompany Lee on his monthly trip to Brussels, but she had to admit that he made the best of the situation. Their late night calls were never dull and often... detail oriented. She sincerely hoped their home phone line wasn't being monitored.

"Alright" Billy continued, unaware of his employee's sudden distraction, "make sure you don't keep them here too late tonight. I need well rested agents tomorrow if we're going to capture Birol."

"Will do, sir."

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Arriving at the set-up spot the following afternoon, Billy was surprised to see Amanda in casual street wear, standing by the news van and speaking with Agents Smythe and Tessoni.

"What's going on, Amanda?"

"Nothing, sir. Fletcher called in this morning with the stomach flu, so I'm taking his place in the news van."

"I don't think …." Billy had a bad feeling in his gut. He'd promised Lee that he'd try to keep Amanda out of the field and out of harm's way in her new role, and thus far, he'd been successful. He could well imagine the hell he'd have to pay if Lee got back from Brussels and realized that his wife had been part of the undercover team intending to catch a high profile terrorist.

"Sir. If you'll excuse me, it's the only way. No-one else is familiar enough with the details of the plan, and we can't miss this opportunity to grab Birol. You said yourself how important this operation is. And it's not like I'm going into the warehouse myself. I'll just be in the news van, calling in the strike." she had already prepared her speech, anticipating Billy's wariness.

Billy Melrose let out a sigh. If the past five years had taught him anything, it was not to stand in the way once Amanda had made up her mind about something. He'd just have to hope that the operation was successful and that Lee never got wind of her involvement.

"Thank you, sir." she said.

"I didn't say anything, Amanda."

"Exactly." she grinned.

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Thinking back on that conversation two hours later, Billy felt sick to his stomach. If only he'd held his ground and not allowed her to go undercover in the news van, Birol would never have grabbed her. He still had no idea how it happened. One minute, the fake news team had been entering the warehouse to film Birol. Amanda had called in the strike, and three senior agents had stormed the warehouse, aiming to capture Birol while he was isolated. But instead, he had managed to elude capture, sneak outside and grab Amanda instead. As a result, Billy now had to make one of the hardest phone calls of his life.

"Lee, it's Billy."

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Lee paced the carpet in Billy's office, glaring occasionally at the Internal Affairs representative who sat across from his supervisor.

"Agent Stetson, I'm certain you must understand why we cannot allow you to participate in the mission to recover your wife. It violates every Agency policy I could number, and a few that I couldn't."

"Do you think I give a damn about your policies?" Lee spit out. He was about to continue when he caught Billy's imploring look, and managed to bite back his words.

"Lee, I know what you're going through. But you running out there guns blazing is not going to save Amanda. I have every available field agent working this case twenty-four-seven. Something is going to turn up. You have to trust me that I know how to handle this." he tried to console his obviously distraught friend. He'd never seen Lee so agitated, and that was saying something.

"I'm sorry, Billy, but you have no f-ing idea what I'm going through." and with that, he stormed out of the office and made his way above ground to his car.

Driving home, his mind tormented him by conjuring up all the possibilities. Amanda in pain, unable to escape from Birol. Birol torturing her in all manner of obscene ways. Amanda dead. His hands clenched the steering wheel as he felt bile rise in his throat. Billy was right. He had absolutely no objectivity when it came to Amanda, and anything he did at this point would likely only make things worse. He hated the feeling of impotence that realization brought, but after five years of Amanda's steadying influence, he had slowly come to realize that hard truths were preferable to convenient lies. He was going to have to put all his faith in her ability to outwit Birol herself.

Lee pulled up in front of their home on Maplewood Drive. Phillip and Jamie were with their father, since he and Amanda would normally be in Brussels together this week. She had in fact planned to go with him, but had cancelled rather at the last minute, saying something about an important appointment that she wasn't able to reschedule. He'd been distracted by his preparations for the counter-terrorism vote, and hadn't pursued the matter, although he missed her terribly when they were separated. He wished now that he'd been more insistent. Then she would be with him, curled up together in their comfortable apartment in Brussels after an evening of celebrating the success of his first large NATO initiative, instead of being held hostage by a vicious terrorist. He shook his head. There was no point revisiting the past. It wouldn't bring her home to him.

Pouring himself a glass of scotch, Lee sat down in the family room. It reflected the haphazard blend that they'd made of their once separate lives. Her sofa, but his coffee table. Her stereo system, but his record collection. And on the mantle, a picture of the two of them on their wedding day, staring into each other's eyes and completely oblivious to the world around them. Lee felt the back of his throat tighten.

"Don't give up, Amanda. You're the bravest, smartest, strongest, most beautiful woman I know. If anyone can get themselves out of a mess like this, it's you. Don't give up, because I need you."

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She shook her head to clear it. She'd been sitting tied to a chair in the brightly lit room for a very long time. Loud music played incessantly, and every time her head nodded forward towards her chest, Birol re-entered the room and startled her awake. She had no idea what time it was, but she imagined at least a day had passed since she'd been captured in the news van, and she'd yet to sleep. She was beginning to hallucinate, hearing Lee's voice and seeing his face. He wasn't coming for her this time, of that she was sure. He had been in Brussels when she was captured, and while she was certain Billy would have called him, he would have no insight into the Birol case that could assist him in finding her. No, this time, she was on her own. She struggled to concentrate, trying to devise a plan.

Birol returned to the room several minutes later, and Amanda put her first idea in motion. She had to get Birol to let down his guard. His overall demeanour, as well as his treatment of her since he'd taken her, showed him to be a misogynist. He clearly believed that women were weak vessels to be used for his purposes alone. She had to play into that belief.

"I'm very thirsty. Could you please bring me something to drink?" she began. He grabbed a plastic cup of water, dropped in a straw, and held it to her mouth. She drank greedily, looking up into his eyes meekly before looking away.

"Thank you." she said humbly, once she was done. "What are you going to do with me?" she ventured.

"Well, that depends very much on your employer. If the Agency wants you back, they are going to have to pay a very high price. I was thinking of asking for five million dollars. What do you think?" he goaded.

"Oh, they'll never pay you that! I'm just a female trainee supervisor. Not even a real agent. To them, I'm entirely expendable."

"Then it's a good thing I have a back-up plan. If the Agency doesn't respond to my ransom offer, I'm sure I can find some other interested buyers." he leered at her, and she looked down at the floor. Satisfied at her submission, Birol left the room again.

Once he was gone, Amanda scanned the room again for a potential weapon. Seeing none, she continued to rub her diamond engagement ring against the cloth ties that bound her hands. She allowed herself a small smile as she considered that Lee's extravagance in Belgium was turning out to be her gain in more ways than one. She could feel the material start to fray next to her right wrist. She was mind-numbingly tired, but she forced herself overlook her current discomfort and concentrate on the matter at hand. Once she broke through her bonds, she was going to have to act fast before Birol noticed she was free.

Fifteen minutes later, she felt the tightness of the cloth around her right wrist disappear and she wiggled her hands free. She tried to subtly shrug her shoulders and massage her wrists, hoping that Birol wasn't paying too much attention to her over the closed circuit video camera. Her plan was to smash the wooden chair against the floor and use one of the legs as a weapon against Birol when he came into the room. She had a sudden flashback of a discussion she'd had with Lee, back when they had just started to see each other outside of work and he was helping her hone her skills as an agent.

"When you have a choice between one way of surprising someone, and two, always take all three." she heard his much-loved voice in her head. She nodded as though he were standing in front of her, and knew what she had to do.

Wrapping the cloth that had previously bound her arms around her right hand, Amanda mentally prepared herself to act, twitching the major muscles she knew would be tight and slow after a day of inactivity in order to awaken them. Taking a deep breath, she moved into action. She stood up quickly and dragged the chair directly below the single bulb that lit the room. Standing quickly on the chair, she used her bound hand to smash the light bulb, transforming the once-glaringly bright room into total darkness. There was no time to let her eyes adjust. She hopped down from the chair, and, lifting it in her hands, smashed it as hard as she possibly could against the concrete floor. She felt the wood break apart, and reached down, blindly searching for a chair leg. Finding one still attached to the seat, she smashed the material once more, and was left with a short, sharp wooden weapon. She could hear Birol on the other side of the door, struggling to unlock it. Making her way to what she was certain was the wall immediately next to where he would enter the room, she used her hearing to judge when he was halfway into the room, and then swung the chair leg with all of her might at the height of his neck. She felt the reverberations as she made contact, and heard his grunt of pain, but he didn't drop to the floor as she'd hoped. Letting go of her weapon, Amanda attacked her captor, punching his face and landing strong kicks against his shins. He was stronger than she was, but she had the advantage of surprise, and after a few failed attempts, she lifted her right knee upward sharply and felt his outtake of breath and deep groan as she made sudden contact with his groin. He fell slightly towards her and away from the door, and she stepped down hard on his left foot before dodging around him and out into the hallway. Looking right and then left, she ran down the stairs, hearing Birol coming fast behind her. She barely paused when she realized there was no time to stop and open the front door, dropping her right shoulder and trying to protect her head as she made a flying jump into the adjacent picture window instead. Rolling on the hard ground, she stood up and began to run for her life. There was a sharp stinging pain on her right side where she'd landed on shards of glass, but she focused instead on her breathing and ran out into the quiet residential street without a backwards glance. At the next cross street, a car driven by an elderly gentleman approached, and she flagged the startled man to a stop. She was safe.

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She opened her eyes to the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Her husband's changeable hazel eyes were staring back at her from where he sat beside her hospital bed.

"How was Brussels?" she whispered, her lips and tongue feeling dry and swollen.

He let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob.

"Amanda …."

"I know. I promised. Please don't be mad at Billy, it wasn't his fault."

He held out a cup of ice water, and she sipped greedily from the straw. He was looking at her as though he was afraid she was going to disappear out from under him with a puff of smoke.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked.

"About sixteen hours. They gave you a mild sedative before they stitched you up, and you've been out ever since."

"How are the boys? And mother?"

"They're fine. Joe brought the boys by after school today. They left you some flowers. Your mom and Captain Kurt were here last night, and will be back again later today."

"And you. How are you?"

He opened his mouth to tell her he was fine, then closed it again, breathing deeply through his nose. "Relieved. Angry. Terrified. Elated. I have no idea how I am, Amanda. The only thing that helps is to be right here beside you, so that's where I am."

She reached out the hand that wasn't connected to an IV and ran it through his messed up hair and down to his strong jaw, brushing her thumb across his lips in the closest thing to a kiss she could offer for the moment. He let out a shaky sigh.

"Does it ever get any easier?" he asked.

"Does what get any easier?"

"Love. Does it ever not feel like walking on a tightrope over razor blades?"

She smiled softly at him, knowing that the very fact that they were having this conversation meant that love was decidedly easier for him now than it had been when they'd first met. Back then, he'd simply denied love any place in his life, filling the void with work and duty and physical relationships instead. And even though he'd finally allowed himself to feel love, and be loved in return, it would always be an emotion fraught with peril and the potential for massive loss for him. The incident with Birol had simply cast stark light on that fact.

"I think … that there's always a risk when you place so much power over your happiness in another person's hands. It can be such a delicate thing, trying to maintain a sense of yourself and who you are without that other person, when love wants you to deny the possibility of ever being apart for the rest of your lives."

He nodded, glad that she understood him so well. It wasn't his love for her that was at question. Never that. It was his ability to survive without it.

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Three days later, her doctor declared her well enough to return home. She'd immediately asked Lee to pull their car around to the front door of the hospital, and when he came back to pick her up, the doctor was still there, conferring with her in a low voice.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, suddenly concerned that she might not be ready to be discharged after all.

"Yes, absolutely. I just had a few more questions for Dr. Marion. Lee, would you mind grabbing my suitcase?"

He wanted to insist that she use the hospital-provided wheelchair, but he knew her better than to try. Amanda Stetson was mostly healed, and she was leaving this hospital on her own steam.

The drive back to their house was quiet, with both of them lost in their own thoughts. Now that she was out of the hospital, Lee could feel a quiet panic settling in his gut. He thought he'd done everything possible to keep her safe, and he'd almost lost her anyway. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He opened the front door for her and watched as she reacquainted herself with her environment. It had been five days since she'd set foot in the house, and seven since they'd been there together. He remembered how they'd made love long into the night before he left for Brussels. Something had been different then, although he hadn't been able to put a name to it, and the next morning, when he'd tried to speak to her about it, she'd laughingly dismissed it as absent-husband syndrome, and then driven him to the airport to catch his flight.

"Penny for your thoughts." she whispered as she came back down from bringing her suitcase upstairs.

"I was just thinking about the night before I left."

"That's funny, because that's exactly what I was thinking about." she purred, as she slid her hands inside the leather jacket he was still wearing, trying to ease it off his tense shoulders.

"Amanda …." he warned.

"Lee …" she mimicked his tone, trying to get him to lighten up.

"You just got out of the hospital. You should be resting in bed." he said decisively.

"And that's exactly what I plan on doing. Right after we make love." She reached out and took him by the hand, trying to lead him towards the stairs.

"Amanda. Amanda, stop!" he sounded frantic, even to his own ears.

"Lee, what's the matter? I specifically asked Dr. Marion if I was cleared for physical activity of the horizontal kind, and he said as long as I don't place any undue strain on my stitches, that I would be fine. So as long as you don't expect any Russian gymnast-worthy contortions, you and I have a date with a mattress."

"Amanda, I really don't think that would be a good idea …"

"And I completely disagree. I think it's a wonderful idea. And I'm the one who just got out of the hospital after escaping from a crazed terrorist, so I feel like you should be gracious and let me win this one." she teased.

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched at the mention of Birol, and Amanda felt momentarily bad for bringing it up, but if there was one thing she knew about her husband, it was that he needed a physical outlet for his emotions. She just had to find a way to convince him to take it.

"What's bothering you, Lee? What we talked about at the hospital when I woke up? If you're trying to avoid walking the tightrope by not having sex with me, I've got some bad news for you. It's not going to work."

He shook his head. "I don't want to avoid having sex with you, Amanda. Far from it. I just don't think today is the right time."

"What about tomorrow, then? Will it feel any safer tomorrow? Day after that? Next week? Next year? Lee, there's always going to be some risk that I'll be hurt, that I'll be taken away from you. It doesn't matter what our jobs happen to be. We could both be school teachers, and I could get hit in a crosswalk by a drunk driver. You don't know. You can't know. That's just life. But here's what I do know. That if there is any way on heaven or earth that I can find my way back to you, I will. Because that's how much I love you. And yes, that's scary as hell to me, so I can only imagine what it feels like to you. But that's just the deal we signed up for when we fell in love."

He shook his head sadly, but she saw some of the tension leaving his body, and decided to press her advantage. She removed her coat. Next she unbuttoned her blouse, untucking the tails from her jeans. Those she unsnapped and lowered slowly down her legs. Kicking them to the side, she looked at her husband, knowing she had his full attention. He was watching her in hungry fascination, hands balled at his sides. She opened her blouse carefully, displaying the two pink rows where her right side was stitched up. Standing tall in her bra and panties, she held out her hand to him and he grasped it.

"Right decision, Scarecrow." she smiled her secret smile at him as she led him upstairs to their bedroom.

He quickly undressed while she watched from the bed, admiring as always the muscled planes of his body. Lowering himself beside her, she reached out and drew him closer, pulling him on top of her as she did.

"Amanda, I don't want to hurt you."

"The only thing you could ever do to hurt me is not to love me as fully as you are capable, Lee."

He kissed her then, starting with her lips, cheeks, eyelids, forehead. Covering her with the lightest possible touches. Guiding his mouth back to hers with her hands, she licked against his lips, then gently bit down on his lower lip, trying to get him to deepen his kiss. He let out a little growl, but instead proceeded to kiss his way down her neck, and slowly lower. When his head was level with her ribs, he stopped to examine her scars, and she felt him place tiny kisses on each of her stitches. Lower still, he kissed her navel and the softness just beyond, and she knew what he was thinking. They had been trying to get pregnant for the past nine months, and she understood, even though he'd never said as much, that he was beginning to lose hope. That perhaps they'd left it too late, and lost the opportunity to create a child of their own.

Placing one last kiss on her belly, he leisurely traveled back up her body until they were face to face again.

"See anything interesting?" she smiled.

"Just doing some preliminary reconnaissance." he grinned in return, and she knew he had come back to himself from the dark place his memories sometimes led him.

She hooked a leg around his and pushed hard against his shoulder, effectively flipping him onto his back.

"My turn."

A long while afterward, Lee was inside her, bracing his upper body up on his strong arms above her. She would normally have complained about the lack of total physical contact, but the position gave her the chance to look down to where their bodies were joined while she ran her hands up and down his sensitive chest.

"Amanda." he gasped.

"I know. I know. Me too." she answered, shifting her hips so that his more rapid thrusts hit her body just so. She could feel her orgasm building and she grasped for his hips, trying to pull him even further inside her.

"God. Like that." he groaned as he stared to come, bringing her along with him by grinding their pubic bones together.

He lowered himself carefully to her left side, laying his head on her shoulder, shuddering as he gasped for breath. She felt her shoulder becoming damp, and realized that he was weeping. Barely audible, he was whispering fervently into her skin, "Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't ever leave me."

She cradled his head against her, running her fingers through his hair over and over.

"Shhhhhh. Shhhhhhh. I'm here. I'm here now. We're here."

He slowly calmed under her gentle touches and words.

"I love you, Amanda Stetson. It's not possible to love anyone more than this."

"I love you too, Lee. But I think you should get used to the idea of feeling that way about both of us."

He lifted his head to look her in the eyes. "What do you mean, both of us?"

In answer, she took his left hand and slowly drew it down her body until it rested low on her belly.

"I mean me, and the little fusion of our two lives that I'm carrying. I think you should get used to the idea of loving him or her just as much."

"Oh my God. Amanda. When? How?"

"I don't think you really need me to tell you how. As to when, about six weeks ago, give or take. I had an appointment with my OB/GYN on the first day you were in Brussels, and she confirmed it. I didn't want to tell you over the phone, but then Birol took me, and I was tormented by the idea that you might never know…" her voice caught, and he pulled her against him fiercely.

"That was why I fought so hard to come back to you. It wasn't just me I was saving, it was our child, and there was nothing I wasn't willing to do to bring us both back safely to you. I told Dr. Marion at the hospital, and he ran some tests to make certain that the baby was alright, after everything I'd gone through."

"And you? Are you okay? I mean, do you need anything? Should I be doing something?" he rambled on, clearly unable to maintain his usual cool demeanour in the face of her announcement.

"You can do what you always do. You can watch over me, and force me to let you take care of me. You can help me celebrate our little miracle. And you can love me."

"Always. We're the luckiest two people on the face of the earth."

THE END (although I'm sure I'll want to come back and visit)


End file.
